


i pray to be only yours

by aftersome



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - A Walk to Remember (2002) Fusion, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Tragedy, Coming Out, Coming of Age, Drama, Fluff and Angst, High School, M/M, Volleyball
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:26:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 34,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23819866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aftersome/pseuds/aftersome
Summary: Hajime sat up and cupped Tooru's cheek with his palm, and they kissed again, on the sands of the Kawasaki beach, under the stars Tooru once thought were poison, away from the rest of the world so no one but them could see. Not even God.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 16
Kudos: 37





	i pray to be only yours

**Author's Note:**

> this is set in modern times !! (let's just pretend that there was a haley's comet appearance at this time ok hehe)

The principal was red with anger, visibly shaking. He clenched his fists hard, making the blood in his body shoot up. Raising a trembling an index finger to point in accusation, he said to Tooru, "He could have died."

Oikawa Tooru was a man of not many fears. At least, that's the facade he liked to keep up. And well, the principal wasn't included in his short list of phobias, so he tried a thin, breezy smile. "That's an exaggeration, sir," he said airily, even though he knew it wasn't true. Heart hammering, he traced circles on his thigh with his forefinger under the table. "We were only messing around!"

"Messing around," the principal repeated, confounded. In a moment of absolute dumbfoundedness, he forgot his anger. Tooru had said it so easily and with such conviction, as if true, as if Kageyama Tobio wasn't seriously injured, as if the law enforcement didn't ring him up at 1 a.m. in the morning, informing him that Kageyama nearly died and was rushed to the hospital because of his own students' stupid prank. "Just messing around— do you even know what the police told me?" As he spoke, his voice raised until he ended up shouting the last word.

Tooru flinched at that, unable to suppress it. "Sensei—" he began, but the principal was having none of it.

"Kageyama will be staying at the hospital for at least three months in order to properly recover. Do you realize how grave this is?"

Weighing his options silently in his head, he figured it would land him less trouble if he relented. Should he insist on nonchalance, he might be expelled and blacklisted from all nearby schools, thus forcing his family to move to a different place.

"Yes, sensei," he said with a bow of his head.

"You're here because Kageyama only spoke of your name before he passed out when they went and took his statement, so if you talk now, you might be spending your punishment with your friends."

Tooru considered that. If he ratted the others out, that would benefit him in terms of companionship and justice. But as captain of his team (his circle of friends were also his volleyball teammates), he felt like he should go through this alone, or they will surely receive severe consequences from their coach, should more than half of the third years in his team be given disciplinary action from the principal himself. The possibility of being thrown out the team was also there.

Tooru shook his head.

"Very well," the principal said with the click of his tongue, possibly having the same thoughts as Tooru.

"This is mercy, Oikawa-san," the principal told him, now in a calmer tone. "In order to avoid law involvement, I'm giving you a choice: expulsion or completing several service projects."

That sounded easy enough. But Tooru knew that wasn't the case. "Uh, what do the service projects entail, sensei?"

The principal exhaled through his nose. Pushing up his glasses, he took some papers and shuffled them in order. "Weekend tutoring, janitorial duties, and participation in the school play." Tooru winced at that. "I'm guessing it's not a tough decision to make?"

Tooru sighed, leaning back against his chair and letting his head hang back. He then straightened up and looked at the principal. "Yes, sensei."

"Good. You start tomorrow."

"Yes, sensei."

There was a long pause before the principal decided to speak again. "We know there's more to you than this, Oikawa-san. We… the faculty… we believe you're capable of doing better. We remember your father—"

"Well, you remember him more than I do, then, sensei."

_**#** _

The weekend tutoring program asked to gather the participants in one hall before the official start of the tutoring sessions in their sister school. The program was manned by the Church, and so the briefing was headed by the laymen.

The hall they gathered in was a small room with light blue tinted jalousie windows through which the dulcet early morning sunlight streamed through, providing light to the room without having to use the fluorescent bulbs fastened to the ceiling with a distance of a few feet each. The walls were painted a boring, faded gray, and chairs were lined up in columns of four before the brown podium at the very front of the room. The white paint on the ceiling was chipping off, as if it's been a while since it was maintained properly. The room looked fairly unused, as if they had been its occupants for the first time in a few years.

Tooru looked around. There were only a handful of them inside the hall. He recognized a few: Sawamura Daichi (of course he would be there; he was the embodiment of the perfect student), Sugawara Koushi (star student of the third years), Ennoshita Chikara (vice president of the student council), Kyoutani Kentarou (probably landed disciplinary action much like himself), Yachi Hitoka and Suzumeda Kaori (Tooru figured they volunteered), and Iwaizumi Hajime in his ugly brown sweater.

Tooru had known that boy all his life. Being next door neighbors, it was a given that they'd be acquaintances on some level. It's just that Tooru never took it a step forward and asked him to become friends. That was social suicide. A guy with a social standing like him can never be seen with a loser like Hajime.

Hajime was the rock bottom of popular kids. Hell, it was even generous to group him with the popular guys. He was the epitome of a goody two shoed loser who kept to himself and only did what he was told to do. Hajime was a member of the church, since his father was the local minister — that in itself landed him at the bottom of the high school food chain. He wore clothes that were old-fashioned and ugly. He always had his nose stuck in a book. He had good grades, respected the teachers and never got into trouble.

The perfect student. Except he wasn't charismatic and charming like Sawamura and Sugawara. He wasn't feared like Ennoshita. He was just… Hajime. Quiet. Reserved. Boring.

And no one liked boring.

Still… he was the only one in the room Tooru had exchanged more than a few words with. Thanks to their next-door neighbor status, he was sometimes forced to interact with the other guy, when they went to the Iwaizumi household or vice versa.

It didn't look like anyone here cared about the status quo anyway, so he didn't think it would do him any harm to approach Hajime.

"So how does this thing work?" he asked after sitting next to him. "You've probably already volunteered for this a couple of time since you're a member of the church, so you probably know all the ropes."

"It's called a briefing for a reason," Hajime said shortly. "Just be patient; someone will explain things soon."

"Or you can just tell me," Tooru muttered under his breath.

Hajime pretended not to hear.

After the thirty-minute briefing, they proceeded to their assigned tutees and started their lessons.

Tooru was lucky enough to have a student that could quickly catch up. Despite Tooru's outward indifference towards academics, he was a pretty good student since he had to maintain good grades in order to stay in their varsity team, so tutoring others was a piece of cake.

As his tutee was preoccupied with answering the mock seatwork he gave her, he took the chance to observe the others. Sawamura and Sugawara were doing well, as expected. Their respective students seemed to have taken a liking to them. Ennoshita's student looked stiff and intimidated, while Kyoutani seemed to be scaring the living shit out of his. The opposite can be said for Yachi, who seemed to be the one in fear of her life, stuttering and flustered, Suzumeda giving her reassuring pats on her back. Hajime, who was in front of the table next to Tooru's, was teaching his student astronomy.

"—Saturn's 15 degrees to the right of red Antares and much brighter," he was saying. He held up the textbook and pointed at a picture. "This is a very simple device made from a coat hanger, plastic wrap and typewriter correction fluid. Do you know what it is?"

His student shook her head with a sheepish smile.

Hajime smiled back. "It's alright. Now, this is a star frame."

"Star frame," Tooru whispered at the same time. It was quiet enough that even his own student didn't seem to hear, not looking up from the questionnaire.

But Hajime heard. He regarded Tooru for a moment, before carrying on with his lesson. "A star frame will help you locate stars and planets with your naked eye—"

Kyoutani's student scoffed, catching everyone's attention. "Did God create the sun?"

Kyoutani growled, kicking the table to shush his student. Tooru raised an eyebrow at that. Kyoutani seemed to respect Hajime, which was something he didn't expect.

"Yes," Hajime said after a pause. "God created the universe and all its physical laws. Even Einstein said it's a miracle that our world is comprehensible—"

"If God can do all that, why can't he get you a new sweater?" Tooru joked.

All the students laughed. Even Sugawara cracked a smile. Only Hajime and Kyoutani were frowning.

"It's a joke," Tooru told him. "Laugh."

So Hajime did. A little bit.

_**#** _

Evenings at the Oikawas' were usually spent (if he wasn't out partying or if he didn't leave practice late) with him and his mom eating dinner, which then leads to him doing the dishes while his mom watches TV or talks to him about his day.

Tonight, his mom leaned against their white kitchen island counter next to the sink as he washed the used plates and utensils. She dropped a brown envelope onto the space beside her. "Your father dropped off an extra check."

"I don't want his money," he said.

"It could help with the new car you've been wanting."

"I like the car that I have." He sighed and picked up the envelope, hands wet and soapy and all, and tore the envelope in half, tossing it to the trash.

His mom smiled.

_**#** _

The weekend tutoring extended to Sundays, much to Tooru's annoyance. This time, they met at their sister school's library. They were teaching the same students they taught yesterday.

Their library was a big room with circular tables and plastic monoblock chairs surrounded by an array of wooden bookshelves filled with hundreds of books. It had a central air conditioning system, making the extremely ideal for learning. There was one tutor for every table, along with their assigned tutee.

On Tooru's table, Miyanoshita Eri had dumped all her textbooks in corner of the table (the thought of which Tooru found funny since the table was circular and circles had no corners) and scattered her school stuff like pencils and pens and erasers and rulers and sheets of paper.

"So what's the measure of angle x if A and B are similar triangles?" Tooru asked.

"Um," was all Miyanoshita said.

"Do you even know what 'similar' means?" Tooru pressed

Intimidated, Miyanoshita shrugged and shrank back in her seat. She squeaked out a tiny 'sorry'.

Tooru sighed, rubbing his temples and leaning back. "You were a fast learner yesterday. Something on your mind?"

"Yesterday was science. I like science; I'm good at it. Math? Not so much," Miyanoshita told him.

"Ah," was his reply. "Maybe we should take a break."

She nodded and traded her calculator for her phone. It seemed that her idea of taking a break was to waste braincells on Candy Crush. (Who still plays that stupid game nowadays?)

Whatever. It wasn't Tooru's place to judge. He cracked his knuckles and scanned the room. His eyes land on Hajime, who was studying him. _What?_ He thought, but didn't voice the question out loud, only cocking his head to the side with a furrow of his eyebrows.

Hajime looked away and turned back to his student.

"I'll be back in twenty minutes," Tooru told Miyanoshita. "Do you know where the volleyball gym is?"

After she gave him directions, Tooru navigated through the campus of their sister school in search of the gym, where he pulled open the doors without much hassle (surprisingly). He picked up a ball and rolled up his sleeves. He hit it towards the wall and caught it with his arms making it bounce back up. He hit it towards the wall again, and the cycle continued.

The gym was silent save for the ball hitting his skin and bouncing against the wall. It was a comforting sound, one he was extremely used to, one he found solace in. To him, volleyball was a lifestyle, and his world revolved around it.

He bit back a curse. They were supposed to practice from seven to six today. If it weren't for this stupid tutoring session, he would have been back in their own court with his own team.

Lost in his thoughts, he absentmindedly played with the ball with consistency, having committed the cycle to his muscle memory. The ball collided with his skin until it turned a harsh red which was oddly comforting, as it was familiar.

"Oikawa-senpai?"

Oikawa caught the ball with hands this time as he turned to the speaker. It was Miyanoshita, peeking from behind the gym doors with her pigtails and bright, innocent eyes. "Um, it's already been half an hour was just wondering if—"

"Oh, sorry. It seems I lost track of time," he apologized sheepishly. He put the ball back from where he took it and exited the gym, closing the doors behind him and following Miyanoshita back to the library.

They were silent on the way back, and Tooru didn't like awkward moments of silence because it made him uncomfortable and squeamish so he opened his mouth to make conversation but Miyanoshita beat him to it.

"Are you a volleyball player, Oikawa-senpai?" she asked, curious eyes looking at him.

"Yes," he said. His voice came out like a gurgle so he cleared his throat and said, "Yes, I am. I'm the captain of our varsity team."

"Oh wow, that's so cool, senpai!" Miyanoshita said. "I'm one of the managers of our school's team, but I'm new so I don't really know much about it. What position do you play, senpai?"

"Setter," he said proudly. He had an air of royalty for a moment when he said it, and Miyanoshita looked at him with so much awe that he felt the fierce pride he held for his passion multiply a hundredfold.

At noon, they were ready to depart for their school. They waited by the gate for their designated vehicle. Tooru had earphones plugged to his ears, and he was tapping his feet to the beat of the music. Crossing his arms over his chest, he had his eyes closed, imagining that he was at a concert, the volume turned all the way up. He didn't even hear the van pull up, didn't even know it had arrived, until someone tapped his shoulder.

Hajime.

"Uh, thanks," he said, pushing one of his earphones away from his ear until it dangled in front of his chest, swinging back and forth like a pendulum.

He and Hajime were the last to get in. And, of course, haha. It was all too cliche. The only seat left was beside Hajime. Shaking it off, he sat next to the other guy without much complaint.

He opened his phone and scrolled through his music library, left earphone still unplugged, looking for a certain song.

"You going to visit your dad?" Hajime's voice surprised Tooru.

He scowled, not saying anything, opting to ignore him.

"He goes to my father's church. He could have been dead already and you wouldn't care—"

"Is this your idea of a small talk?" Tooru asked rudely. "If so, you need to know I don't mind awkward silences." Not true. It was just that he got pissy if the subject was about his good-for-nothing father. And silence was alright in this situation, since he had his music with him.

"I don't make small talk," Hajime replied curtly.

 _Obviously_ , Tooru thought, forcing himself not roll his eyes. He stuffed his left earohone back in his ear.

"I just wanted to tell you not to give up. There's a reason why things happen and people do what they do."

Tooru bit back a retort, but chose not to show that he heard.

"What makes you volunteer?" Hajime asked. When Tooru didn't answer, he said, "Want to know why I tutor reading?"

"Not really," Tooru said unabashedly.

"Because growing up, books were my world," Hajime continued, as if Tooru never spoke.

Tooru snorted like the mean guy he was. "Were?" he said with a smirk.

"You don't know me."

"Your book and your ugly sweater and your silent demeanor. What else is there to know?"

"There is more to know about me, I am human after all. There are many aspects to a human being." Hajime drew a deep breath, then turned to actually face Tooru. "I wear the sweater because I'm cold, I'm silent and read my books because no one talks to me. Why does it bother you?"

"It doesn't bother me, but it should bother you. Don't you care what others say?"

"You mean care what you say? I have other things to worry about."

"Like the God and His creation of everything?" Tooru mocked.

"Can't you have a normal conversation?"

"I don't want to have a conversation."

"Good, because explaining to you is like describing colors to the blind."

"Why don't you tell your God to make the blind see, then?"

Hajime ignored him after that and went back to reading his book.

The rest of the ride no longer had arguments and only had music, to which Tooru inwardly rejoiced at. He nodded his head to the music, and the world melted into nothing but Burnout Syndromes.

The van stopped in front of Aoba Johsai High School, and the world was back into focus once more. Tooru was the first to get out, and he greeted this week's girlfriend with a kiss the moment he stepped out.

_**#** _

Apart from weekend tutoring, his punishment also included participating in the school play. Ooh, joy.

The auditorium was a big space with rows of seats before a small open space followed by the stage. Today, they huddled around the stage and sat on the floor of the open space, looking up at the school play adviser.

Tooru yawned. It was Tuesday evening, and he had just gotten out of practice. His hair was damp from the shower and he had thrown his daily contacts out in favor of his glasses. The people here were mostly geeks and losers anyway, so it didn't matter if he was wearing glasses. Not that he had a choice in the matter. (He didn't bring an extra pair of his disposable daily contacts).

There were more people here than the weekend tutoring program, most of which he didn't recognize. Probably because they were way outside the scope of his popular status. He did a double take when his eyes landed on Hajime.

_Seriously? This guy would willingly participate in something like this?_

The school play adviser cleared his throat and introduced himself. "My name is Mizoguchi Sadayuki. I'm the school play adviser in charge of this project and I want all of you to give it your all or I'll throw you out of here. Got it?"

Mizoguchi-sensei was a tall, thirty-something man with blonde hair and a permanent scowl on his face. He was stern and didn't look like he would yield for anybody, which Tooru found odd considering he was merely a drama teacher and a school play adviser.

Tooru leaned forward and poked the boy in front of him, lowering his face to the other guy's level. "What's the play?" he asked.

The guy in front of him had green hair and a trembling lip. He was freckly and looked like he was about to cry any minute. But he was tall, and his shoulders were broad and lean, as if he liked to exercise occasionally. He handed Tooru a photocopied script — The Walking Thunder.

"The-the-there's this drought," he stuttered, obviously fluttered at Tooru's sudden attention on him, "an-and a smooth t-t-alking guy comes and says he can m-make rain—"

"And the ugly farmer's son falls for him. I saw the movie."

"Yeah, i-it's really good."

Tooru looked at him funny. "Nah," he said, "it sucks."

"The roles will be assigned through votes. Whoever gets the most votes will play their respective character," Mizoguchi-sensei explained.

Tooru didn't even fight the urge to rolls his eyes. Although, he did swallow a groan. He found this all so stupid. Tooru was not much of a theatre kid. He hated having to perform onstage in front of the entire student body. Give him a national volleyball tournament with millions of eyes on him, and he'd take that any day. The court was different; it felt like home. It was his turf. When he played, he could only feel the ball against his skin and the hammering of his chest. He could only see the court and his teammates and the net and the ones beyond. He could only hear shoes squeaking and 'chance ball!'s and 'nice kill!'s. The stage, however, was a different, unfamiliar territory altogether. The stagelights made him sweaty and the props and costumes were itchy and annoying. The looming pressure from the audience would make his mind go blank. Even with all the that, though, Tooru didn't think he had stage fright. Instead, he liked to think the stage was frightened of him.

He let loose a sharp exhale. He could only hope that he would be casted as a propsman or a stagelight director or something.

"Alright let's start with the role of Peter," Mizoguchi-sensei decided. "Any nominations?"

"Iwaizumi-san would be the perfect fit," someone said.

Mizoguchi-sensei hummed. "Good choice. Any other nominations?"

The students went silent.

"Very well," Mizoguchi-sensei said. "If there are no other nominees and there are no objections. Iwaizumi-san is thereby bestowed the role of Peter. Okay, let's move on to the love interest, Zach."

"How about Kai-san, sensei?" someone from the back piped up.

Mizoguchi-sensei nodded and took note of it. "Anyone else?"

"I nominate Akaashi!"

"I'm in charge of the script writing, Bokuto-san," answered a boy who Tooru assumed was Akaashi.

"Aw." Bokuto pouted. "Have someone else write it for you. They can just copy from the movie."

"I'm afraid that wouldn't be right, Bokuto-san."

"So, who else aside from Kai-san?" Mizoguchi-sensei asked. Scanning the crowd, his eyes narrowed when they landed on Tooru, who gulped.

Oh no, he thought.

"How about Oikawa-san?" Mizoguchi-sensei suggested, inciting whispers from the crowd. "He looks fit for the role. Kai-san can be his understudy. What do you guys think?"

There was a variety of reactions from the students, but most of them were in favor of Mizoguchi-sensei's proposition.

Fucking. Hell.

"It's settled then." Mizoguchi-sensei clapped his hands together, a strange gleam in his eyes.

_**#** _

By the time the casting was finished, which took at least an hour, Akaashi was able to provide a script for the first act, which he handed over to the leads for them to practice.

"I hope your dreams come true," Tooru said in a monotonous voice.

All around them, people were scuttling around, busy making the props and the costumes and mapping out the stage positioning and the lights and the sound effects. Some were practicing their own lines and scenes. They were loud, but as he and Hajime stood on the stage with the black backdrop behind them and Mizoguchi-sensei observing their practice, Tooru could at least hear his own breathing and Hajime's voice.

"They won't," said Hajime as Peter.

"Believe in yourself, and they will. Look at the stars tonight, Peter. They sing for you. Believe, and they will guide you." Tooru visibly cringed at the lines. _God, this was so lame._

"Oikawa-san are you trying to be bad at this?" Mizoguchi-sensei said impatiently, tapping his right foot repeatedly.

"No, it just comes naturally," came Tooru's reply.

Mizoguchi-sensei inhaled sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose. Hajime managed a small smile. When Mizoguchi-sensei released the breath he was holding, he rolled his wrists fervently as a cue for them to continue.

"How am I supposed to know, Zach?" Hajime said, in character. "How am I supposed to know if the stars are my guide or my poison?"

 _How the fuck can stars be poision?_ Tooru thought to himself, before rolling his eyes. "Listen to your heart. It reaches out to you. All you need to do is listen. It tells you the truth."

"Before we part," Hajime said, "you must tell me: am I beautiful?"

There was a crack in his voice just then, and Tooru knew it was still Peter speaking, but the emotion made him falter. He looked at Hajime curiously, wondering how someone like him could be so passionate about something they were only practicing.

Then it hit him that maybe it wasn't so different from his volleyball. Just recently he'd lamented his absence from practice, craving the feeling of the ball in his hands, even if it wasn't for an actual match.

He's like me. The truth shocked him enough that he was stunned for a few seconds, only snapping out of it when Hajime cleared his throat.

Grudgingly, his respect for Hajime grew. Just a bit. A tiny bit, that was all.

"Yes, you are," he read from the script. "You're ethereal, comparable to Narcissus himself, like an ancient Greek statue. Skin smooth like stone, features distinct and detailed like God was a careful artist, and you were His design."

"A little more emotion, Oikawa-san," Mizoguchi-sensei demanded.

"Man, I can't do this! No way, no thanks. This isn't my turf. I should just be a propsman or something. I can be in charge of the lights, I wouldn't mind. I can't do this."

"You can and you will, Tooru-san." Mizoguchi-sensei glared at him. "With all the sincerity and dignity you can muster."

It was 10 p.m. when they were finally allowed to leave. It was raining, and Tooru stood under an overhang, pissed to the core, waiting for a ride. His bag was slung on his shoulder. His fresh clothes were wet and muddy, which meant he had to shower again when he arrived home. This made him even angrier.

Hajime approached him.

"Can you go away?" Tooru said, irritated. "You're like this- this fly, buzzing and buzzing around everywhere. It's annoying."

"This play means a lot to me," Hajime said.

"This… this play?" Tooru sputtered. "Seriously? You're still thinking about that? Come on! This is why everyone thinks you're such a loser."

"I know you don't suck at acting," Hajime told him.

Tooru laughed. Behind him, the school lights were shut off, only the streetlights saving them from complete darkness. "Sure, sure," he said dismissively, waving him off with his hand. Really. The nerve of this guy.

"You just had to act like it was all a big joke you can laugh and cringe at just because only the nerds and dweebs like theatre!" Hajime glared at him.

Oukawa regarded him weirdly. "What the hell are you on about?"

"I can judge too," Hajime said, quietly this time. "All you care about is your volleyball. You don't actually like school; you only put up with it to be in the volleyball team and because you're popular."

"It's true, I am very popular."

"Not the fucking point, dipshit," Hajime growled.

Tooru stepped back a bit at that. Was he hearing things? Is he having a fever? It must be because of the rain. Tooru shook the silly thoughts from his head. "Did the local minister's son just swear?"

Hajime pulled back a little, looking a bit embarrassed. "You were being very annoying."

"Me? It was you who decided to get all on my face and start blabbering about what you thought of me."

Hajime didn't bother to retort, only falling into silence. He reached out of the overhang and let the rain fall on his palm. "Your act only works with an audience, you know."

"My act?" Tooru questioned. "What the hell are you talking about?"

But Tooru knew. Oh yes, he knew. He knew of the things he kept in a mental box, buried deep into the dirt of his mind to hide away from the rest of the world. He knew of the tears he shed when no one could see, knew of the fears he locked away in the shadows, knew of the thoughts he tried to ward off. He knew of the things he did when he was alone, the things he kept thinking when there was nothing left to keep his mind busy. He knew of the secrets he pushed behind him, so far away that he couldn't see them even if he looked back.

Hajime leaves him at the overhang, heading towards his father's old Pontiac, the last car in the parking lot.

He checked his phone for the time. Nearly 10:40. It didn't look like the rain was going to stop any sooner. He looked over at the Pontiac backing out of the parking spot.

With a groan, he ran over to the car, rain making him dripping wet from head to toe. He violently knocks on the driver's side's window, shivering from the cold, before realizing he was being unnecessarily rude and softened his knocks. "Sorry," he muttered, but he wasn't sure if Hajime had heard. "Can I please have a ride?" he pleaded. "Please?"

Hajime looked at him coldly, not fazed in the slightest by Tooru's poor appearance: hair flattened and dripping wet, along with his shirt, pants, shoes and bag. His glasses kept slipping and in turn, he kept pushing them back up.

"You can… you can help me with my lines," Tooru bargained, "to make sure I'll really do it right from now on."

Hajime pondered on it.

Minutes later, Tooru was inside the warmer Pontiac making everything in the passenger side wet.

"Sorry," he muttered.

"It'll dry," Hajime said, and off they went. "I know you don't want to be helped."

"That makes two of us then," Tooru retorted. A beat. "I'll point. You drive. Faster."

Hajime didn't bother hiding his eyeroll, annoyed at Tooru's bossy demands, as if Hajime wasn't doing him a favor.

The rain was still heavy outside, and the windshield was foggy. Hajime adjusted the headlights to the highest setting to help him see better.

"Why are we passing here?" Hajime asked. Squinting at the windshield, he licked his lips, possibly wondering why the hell Tooru led him here. They were passing through the forest behind their backyards.

Tooru looked at him. Hajime wasn't wearing that god awful sweater (thank the heavens). He donned a white long sleeved polo shirt with its first 2 buttons left open. The sleeves were folded up to his elbow. His pants were tight and cuffed at the ends With normal, socially acceptable clothing, he didn't look… bad.

Tooru shook his head at the thought. "Yeah. It's a shortcut. You've never passed here? Take a left and it'll take us to the main road, then the second right, and we're home."

When they reached the main road, Hajime jerked wheel, making the car shift to the other lane. Tooru gripped the car handhold on his side in alarm.

"What the fuck?" Tooru protested. "You're driving on the wrong side of the road!"

"So you agree to help?"

This Hajime was scaring him. It was so out of character, Tooru wanted to laugh. If not for the white headlights headed their way, getting closer and closer by the second.

"Yes! What the hell? Get back to the other lane!"

Hajime stared him down, then turned the wheel so they were on the right side of the road again. The other car blared its horn at them as it drove past. "Really?"

Tooru's heart was hammering in his chest. He wasn't one to follow rules, sure. He definitely broke the law a couple of times. But, what the fuck? He didn't want to die. "You're crazy," he chose to say instead.

"Say it," Hajime pressed, eyes on him.

Tooru looked back, unyielding. Then with a sigh and a clench if his jaw, he broke eye contact and looked out of the window. "Yeah," he said, dropping the tough guy act. "Sensei will kick me out of the school if I screw up the play. Eyes on the road, now."

If Hajime smiled, Tooru couldn't tell, not even when he tried look at his reflection on the window.

"28 and 42," he heard Hajime mutter.

Tooru paused. Furrowing his eyebrows, he tried to sneak a glance at the other guy through his peripheral vision, nearly turning his neck until he stopped himself. He didn't want to ask, but he was intrigued. "What's with the fucking numbers?"

"28 is do something illegal. 42 is befriend an enemy," Hajime answered.

Tooru had to laugh. "So I'm an enemy now? We've been next door neighbors our whole lives, you know," he informed him.

Hajime didn't skip a beat. "Well I've been villainizing you in my head the whole time."

Tooru let out something that was a mix of a scoff and a laugh. He shook his head, amused. "I guess I can't help it if you're jealous that I'm popular."

This time it was Hajime who laughed. Tooru looked at him, half in awe and half in shock. He had never heard Hajime laugh like that, not even during those stupid household visits with his family. He mostly kept to himself, and Tooru had never heard him raise his voice higher than the rare, occasional shouts.

"You really are something else, Oikawa," he said with a smile Tooru couldn't decipher.

There was silence for a few moments. Tooru was lost in his thoughts, thinking about what Hajime had said. _42 is befriend an enemy._ So they were friends now? Tooru didn't know when they'd established that, because he sure as hell never said yes. Not that Hajime even asked.

"The reason I got the part…" Hajime began, pulling Tooru from his headspace. "I'm a little like Peter. Except I don't worry about some man rescuing me."

Tooru thought that was obvious. Hajime was muscular and manly for an outcast. Surely he didn't need "rescuing". _Maybe that was a bit sexist,_ Tooru thought. "Good thing," he said instead.

Silence ensued once more. And there's nothing Tooru hated more than awkward silences, except maybe his father.

"You got some sort of list?" he asked.

Hajime's eyes flicked towards him for a second, before going back to the road. "This is your idea of a small talk?" Hajime mocked. "I thought you were fine with awkward silences."

"Fine, don't answer, then," Tooru huffed.

Hajime cleared his throat, then spoke quietly, "Are you asking me to make fun of me or do you genuinely want to know?"

"Maybe a little bit of both."

Hajime smiled. "I'll take it," he said. He put one hand through his hair and leaned back a bit on his seat. It creaked when he did.

"Go for it," Tooru said.

"It's like a to-do list, but for my life," Hajime answered.

There was something about the way his voice quietened at the end that made Tooru think it was a touchy subject, as if it was not merely something like I wanna do this because it sounds fun, but more like I wanna do this before I die. Tooru wondered if it was something like that. "So a bucket list, then."

"Yeah."

"It's mostly people with some kind of untreatable disease that does bucket lists and stuff, you know," Tooru joked. "Don't dwell on it too much. If you can't imagine the future, you won't have one."

Hajime smirked. "You'd be surprised."

Tooru wondered what he meant by that. "So what else is on the list?"

"That's private," Hajime said.

Tooru snorted. "Don't be a pussy," he said. Then changed his tone to a more cajoling one, pointing a finger close to Hajime's face, "You know you want to tell me."

Hajime pushed his hand away. "I know I don't."

"Get very wasted," Tooru guessed, "lose your virginity, take drugs."

"Spend a year in the Japanese Overseas Cooperation Volunteers," Hajime corrected. "Make a medical discovery."

"Ambitious," Tooru commented.

"What's life without a little bit of ambition?" Hajime said. "The world won't go round if you don't make it." He took a deep breath. "Besides, being negative's a lot more work than being positive."

This angered Tooru. What would Iwaizumi Hajime, a firm believer in his God, son of a minister, weekend tutor and school play volunteer, know about being negative when other people's words don't even bother him in the slightest? "Like you'd know," Tooru couldn't help but say.

"I do know," Hajime said quietly. He licked his lips and continued talking, "Be in two places at once, learn to turn a cartwheel, play a sport, maybe volleyball or soccer…"

Tooru liked the frivolity of these. They seemed silly and tiny. It reminded him of the smaller things in life he often forgot, like how he tended to get anxious over a match with their rival school despite it being three matches away. Tooru was too ambitious a person, always aiming for the top that sometimes he forgets the ones at the bottom, so maybe he wasn't one to judge Hajime.

It startled him that they had a lot more in common than he previously thought.

"What's number one?" he asked.

Hajime looked away. "None of your business," he said in a closed tone that made it clear he wasn't going to say more on the subject. "Anyway, if you want help with your lines, I have two conditions."

"Name it."

Hajime smiled. It seemed like something in between teasing and genuine. "First is you have to promise not to fall in love with me."

Tooru laughed out loud, but it didn't faze Hajime. "You're serious?" Tooru asked, still a hint of a grin on his face. He laughed some more when Hajime nodded. "As a son of the minister, I'd have thought you wouldn't need to worry about a guy falling in love with you."

"It isn't God's will to discriminate."

"Okay, alright," Tooru said just to humor him. "Not a problem. I'm not into guys, anyway. What's the other one?"

"You have to meet my father, tell him about me helping you. He's always been pestering me to make friends."

Tooru gave him a reassuring smile, as if Hajime was silly to even worry about it. "Do you even know who you're talking to? Fathers love me."

**_#_ **

The next evening, a little bit after practice, Tooru took his bike to the Hajime residence, not bothering to check in with his mother first. He knocked on the door. His hair was dripping wet from the shower as he hadn't bothered to dry it off in his rush to get to Hajime's place as fast as he could.

The door swung open and revealed the Reverend, Hajime's father, who Oikawa often referred to as Iwaizumi-san. He stood tall, like Ichabod Crane in a minister's collar, only more human and real.

Tooru gave him a cheery wave. "Iwaizumi-san," he greeted. His bike fell off its kickstand at that moment, making a crashing noise.

Iwaizumi-san glanced at the fallen bike. "Where's your car?"

"They took my license for 30 days," he explained, bounding down the porch steps to set his bike upright, making sure the kickstand was properly positioned, "but nobody's pressing any charges, so it's all good."

"You're in the play?" Iwaizumi-san asked, surprised.

"Lead role," Tooru said playfully with a wink. "Of course, that's to be expected, since I'm naturally charming and good-looking~"

Iwaizumi-san laughed. "Of course, of course." There was a twinkle in his eye that Tooru was pleased to see. "I just didn't think you were the type to join school plays. I thought you were all volleyball and tournaments."

Tooru paused, pondering the right answer. Then he grinned, the same, perfect smile he's practiced so many times in front of the mirror. "Well, the play won't be as good if I'm not in it, right?" he quipped. "Iwaizumi-san, I'm doing them a favor~"

"Oikawa," a different voice called. It was Hajime. He looked good in his dusted pink shirt and jeans. Normal. Like a teenager, not someone's grandpa.

"Iwaizumi," Tooru greeted.

"Just call him Hajime," Iwaizumi-san said, "it gets confusing. Anyway, dinner will be ready in a few. Have you told your mother about this, Tooru?"

Tooru shook his head. "I haven't."

"No matter," Iwaizumi-san said with a wave of his hand. "I'll just ring her up."

Tooru nodded, taking off his shoes once he got in. Iwaizumi-san made his leave, headed for the kitchen. Tooru looked around. The interior of the Iwaizumi household had not changed one bit since they first moved in. Dark and prim with stiff, ancient-looking furniture, Victorian portraits of people Tooru didn't know with dusty frames and eyes that seemed to follow your every move, antique vases and religious paraphernalia — just a regular day at the Iwaizumis'.

"Please," Hajime began once his father was out of earshot, "never call me Hajime."

Tooru smiled brightly. "I'll call you Iwa-chan, then."

Hajime looked at him curiously. "Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Tooru titled his head in confusion.

"That…" Hajime said vaguely. "One moment you're an absolute jerk, and the next you're buttering up to my dad, all bright and playful and friendly."

"It's called being charming, Iwa-chan," Tooru said smugly. "You should try it sometime. Although, I don't suppose you could since you're such a loner."

"Ah, here comes the jerk," Hajime muttered. "I can see through your act, just so you know. We may have only been friends recently, but I've known you since we were kids. You can drop the fake personality or whatever with me."

Tooru pouted. "I don't have a fake personality."

"Ah." Hajime nodded in agreement. "You really don't. I mean, it's not like you don't keep insulting me then suddenly act like we've been friends since birth or whatever. Yeah, totally not fake."

Tooru hated how Hajime saw right through him. Was he really that much of an open book to this guy? Hajime was the first to call him out on his bullshit, so he didn't really know how to react. "Iwa-chan, you really had the nerve to warn me not to fall in love with you when it's supposed to be the other way around, seeing as you must have spent quite an amount of time analyzing me."

"You're annoying."

"It's one of my many charms."

Dinner was okay. Tooru was a natural conversationalist, and Iwaizumi-san laughed at all the right jokes and told his fair share of stories. Hajime, on the other hand, stayed silent, the way he always did, following them with his eyes, sparing a few smiles when he couldn't help it.

Tooru offered to stay and help with the dishes after the meal but Iwaizumi-san waved him off. "You head back home and rest, son," he said. "We'll take care of this. I know how much you devote yourself to your sport. You must be really tired already."

Tooru bowed his thanks and left.

Hajime began clearing the plates from the table, bringing them to the sink. His father sat on one of the chairs, and Hajime could feel his father staring at him. "Something you wanna say?" he asked when he couldn't take it anymore.

"Since when were you friends with him?"

Hajime paused at the question, wondering where this was coming from. Rinsing off the last of the dishes, he wiped his hands with the towel by the stove and leaned against the counter. "A few days ago. Why? I thought you'd be happy I finally made friends."

"Yes, but not him."

"What?" Hajime looked genuinely confused. He thought it was a good plan to get his father off his back. His dad had been badgering him to make friends and "enjoy his youth". "But you're friends with his parents. We've known each other since we were kids."

His dad pursed his lips. "He's dangerous, Hajime," he said. "You know about what he did to that Kageyama boy. And I heard the two got into a fight before the recent incident. He may be a good student and a good athlete, but as a person… not so much, I'm telling you. The boy has… destructive tendencies, so to say." He sighed before continuing, "He wasn't like this before the divorce. Ever since his dad left, he hasn't been the same."

Hajime stayed silent.

"I know it hasn't been easy without your mother—"

"Don't go there."

"Okay," his father relented and leaned back. "I don't want you meeting with him outside school activities. He's reckless, son. A menace. I just hope you know what you're getting yourself into."

"You have to understand, otousan. I need to start deciding how to spend my time and my life," Hajime argued.

"I know, son, I know," his dad said. "I think I know that more than anyone else."

_**#** _

_Oikawa: yo_

_Oikawa: damn r u still asleep_

_Oikawa: iwa-chan, don't forget we agreed to meet at the cemetery to practice_

_Oikawa: seriously why the cemetery??? u planning to bury me or smth???_

_Oikawa: it's almost 1am where r u_

_Oikawa: WAKE UP, MAN_

_Iwa-chan: I'm up, I'm up. Jeez._

_Oikawa: u type scary whats with the dots and commas u grandpa_

_Oikawa: anyway i'm here already idk why we couldn't have just gone together :// you're literally just beside me lol also why couldnt we just practice in ur house or sumn_

_Iwa-chan: Are you always this annoying?_

_Oikawa: no, but im always fabulous so_

Hajime didn't respond after that, so Tooru pocketed his phone and began pacing. It was dark, but he wasn't afraid. He wasn't supposed to be afraid of many things. He wrapped his jacket tighter around his body, hearing the scripts in one of the pockets crinkle as he did so.

It was always colder after midnight, so he made sure to wear a couple layers. The sky was murky black and dotted with a few stars. The moon was hidden behind some clouds, but still bright enough to produce light.

"Hey."

Tooru nearly jumped out of his skin at thensound of Hajime's voice. "Yo," he greeted, jogging over to Hajime's approaching figure. "Took you long enough."

"There was a bit of a hold up," Hajime said, fishing for his phone from his pocket. He turned on the flashlight.

"Your dad, huh?"

Hajime nodded.

"I'm not dumb," Tooru said casually. "I know he doesn't like me that much. I saw the face he made when I said they took my license." He paused. "A setter must always pay attention to the game, the ball, his enemies, and his men." He grinned. "I guess I just happened to carry my vigilance outside the court. I mean, I'm not one of the best setters in our prefecture for nothing."

"Could've fooled me."

"You're mean." Tooru pouted. "Anyway, you don't have to worry. He's a big softy. I'll have him wrapped around my finger soon. He'll come around."

"You think so?" Hajime looked skeptical.

Tooru beamed. "I know so."

Hajime shrugged, smiling. "Whatever. This way." He started to head west, leading them both towards the cemetery gate. It was locked, but they found another way in, through the barbed wire fence near the main gate.

The cemetery was always quiet as no one dared to disturb the dead, but it was a different kind of silence at 1 a.m. It was almost as if they were in another dimension entirely. Imagine having water in your ears, blocking out most of the sounds, but not entirely. You can still hear everything but it seems muffled and slow. A hush.

The stillness was almost scary. It was deafening, like a ringing in your ears you can't turn away from. Tooru almost shivered.

"People think I'm strange, don't they?" Hajime suddenly asked. "Like I'm some sort of alien species. Like in Jojo Rabbit where the Nazis believed absolutely ridiculous rumors about the Jews; how they had horns and can read minds or whatever."

Tooru smiled. "Yeah. But not that exaggerated, obviously."

"Why? Is it because I'm quiet? Because I'm a loner?"

Tooru shrugged. "Mmm," he said vaguely. "I'm not sure."

"Do you think I'm strange?" Hajime asked.

Tooru paused, caught off-guard by his sudden frankness. "Yeah, sure," he replied off-handedly and with another shrug. "You're like an alien."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, I think," Tooru said carefully. Then he turned and gave Hajime a smile. "It's okay; I happen to like aliens."

"Do you really?" Hajime asked curiously.

"Yeah," Oikawa breathed. "They're fascinating. An entire universe out there, you can't tell me there's not one other species of intelligent beings other than the human race. I think that's a bit improbable."

Hajime hummed. "Do you know about the Fermi paradox?"

"What's that?"

"It's the apparent contradiction between the lack of evidence for extraterrestrial civilizations and various high estimates for their probability. Basically: 'there are many planets capable of housing intelligent beings, but there are no signs of intelligent life out there.' As Enrico Fermi said one day at lunchtime in the 1950s, where is everybody?"

"That's right, isn't it?" Tooru pondered at the implications. "It's impossible that we're the only ones here, but we haven't heard of anything out there, any sign that we're not alone."

Hajime sucked in a breath. "It hurts my brain sometimes, when I think too much about that stuff. There's just so much to unpack."

"Right?" Tooru laughed. "Anyway, why are we here?"

"Because it's dark and quiet and you can see into another world," Hajime said.

"The world of the dead?" Tooru joked.

"Could be," Hajime said mysteriously, winking.

Tooru slowed in his tracks, looking down, not sure what Hajime meant. When he looked back up, the other guy was already a few feet ahead of him. He quickly quickened his pace to match Hajime's.

"My mother's buried near here," Hajime said quietly once they reach a storage shed.

"My father's alive but it's like he's dead."

Hajime regarded him, feeling his sorrow, but not letting too much of his sympathy show on his face. With a grunt, he unlocked the storage room and went inside. He returned a moment later carrying several pieces of an odd-looking home-made cylindrical device.

"What's that?" Tooru asked.

"It's my telescope," Hajime said proudly. "I built it from scratch myself." He began putting the parts together until the ten-inch Dobsonian telescope was pointed at the sky. The eye-piece was at the end of the long scope; the scope rested on a plywood base.

They sat on the ground, taking turns with the telescope. Tooru looked through the eye piece. What greeted him was a beautiful view of a golden planet with a broad, flat ring system. "Wow," he said, impressed, "Saturn. Beautiful."

"Before Voyager, we expected maybe a dozen rings," said Hajime.

"But there are thousands of them, made of floating ice," Tooru said.

"Maybe debris from a moon that broke apart."

"Or building blocks for a world that never formed," suggested Tooru.

Hajime looked at Tooru, and they shared a smile. "I'm not that smart," said Tooru. "I just like astronomy and suck everything up. Like a sponge."

Hajime shook his head, disagreeing, but didn't say more. He looked at the telescope and changed the view. "Sometimes I come here and just scan the heavens."

"Looking for extraterrestrial life?" Tooru joked. "I'd do that."

"Looking for something…" Hajime said, "someone…"

Tooru paused, eyeing him. Hajime hunched over behind the telescope, squinting at the eyepiece. There was something about the way he tried to hide his shaky hands inside his pockets that made Tooru's heart break a little. "You want to see your mother again?"

"Yeah, something like that," Hajime breathed, straightening up. "I think maybe she sees me now."

Tooru didn't know what to say to that. Instead, he leaned back, resting his back against a tombstone. Hajime did the same until they were shoulder to shoulder.

"I'm building a larger one to see the nucleus of Haley's comet," Hajime said.

"The dirty snowball at its core," Tooru said, even though he already knew.

"Yes." The evening breeze was cool against their skin, but there was a burning in Tooru's side, a warmth that he wished would spread from his shoulder to his entire body. "I'm probably not going to be here the next time it comes."

"In 76 years, me neither," Tooru said.

Hajime sighed. "Maybe we're all just building blocks of worlds that are yet to form," he said suddenly, pertaining to what Tooru said earlier. "Some of us get to become actual planets, but the other half of us have no gravity strong enough to pull pieces of us intact. Some of us are taken before we even get the chance to be complete."

"That can be a good thing," Tooru argued, "sometimes scattered pieces convey more than a meaningless whole."

Hajime smiled. "And you say you're not smart."

"You're really into God, right?" Tooru asked suddenly.

"In ten words or less?"

"Yeah."

"My relationship with God is my own."

The stars reflected in Tooru's eyes as he stars at the heavens. There were only a few dozen mapped out against the pitch black canvas of the sky, but it was still beautiful. Everything about the universe was beautiful to Tooru. "But… there's no proof that He's real. What did He ever do to you to gain your faith? How can you believe in Him?"

"Don't you?"

"Not really. I like to think I'm a man of science." Tooru took in a breath. "But sometimes… yeah."

When Hajime didn't speak, Tooru's mouth took charge. Honestly, he could have just cracked a joke, but the words were spoken before he could even put much thought into it. "Like in a church painting. I see this giant hovering over the ground. He's wearing a robe, and has long flowing hair, and he's pointing his finger at something. And I think, this is God. He's out there somewhere."

"Do you ever wonder why things happen the way they do?"

"No." _Yes_.

"I know there's a plan for everyone, but sometimes I don't understand what the message is or what the point is." Hajime laughed bitterly. "Sometimes I wonder who I'm even giving my utmost faith to. If it even is worth it."

"There's no point," Oikawa said. "You live. You die. The end. That's it. Maybe even take a detour and go to nationals while you're at it."

"If you're so devoted to volleyball, maybe that's His plan for you. I don't know," Hajime said. "That's kind of the point. We're not supposed to understand, but we're supposed to have faith that someone else sees the big picture."

"That's kind of stupid," said Tooru. "You need to believe to have faith."

"You don't believe in anything?"

Tooru shook his head. "The Bible. Why should I believe a bunch of dumb stories about some ancient guy who supposedly worked miracles?"

"Interpreted by another guy like my father," Hajime said with a small smile, to lighten the mood.

"Hah. Your father doesn't like me."

"He doesn't trust you."

"Sometimes I don't even trust me."

Tooru took the scripts from his pocket, unfolded them, and handed one to Hajime. A moment passed before he took it.

"I'm not afraid of you," he said.

Tooru smiled. "Likewise." His gaze shifted towards the script. "I hope your dreams come true."

"They won't."

"Believe in yourself, and they will." The emotions come a little more naturally to Tooru now. "Look at the stars tonight, Peter. They sing for you. Believe, and they will guide you."

"How am I supposed to know, Zach? How am I supposed to know if the stars are my guide or my poison?"

Later that night, Tooru was on his bed, back against the soft mattress, dreary. His mind was running a mile a minute, his eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling. He sat up from his horizontal postition and moved to his desk. He took a sheet of paper and a pen. He wrote _Life List_ at the top, but he didn't write anything else underneath it. He didn't know what.

_**#** _

"Women are definitely evolving into men."

The next morning before school, Tooru, Mattsun, Makki and Tooru's new girlfriend (whose name he could, sorry, barely remember), were in the parking lot, sitting inside Makki's car before the bell rang. Rock music blared through the speakers.

"The mustaches on some girls are unbelievable," Mattsun said, his feet up on the dashboard, arm hanging out of an open window.

"Why is that Iwaizumi guy staring at us?" Tooru's girlfriend asked.

They all turned to look, and there he was. Iwaizumi Hajime, with his ugly green sweater, looking at them, hand clutching the straps of his backpack. They laughed. Even Tooru forced a chuckle for show.

"He wants to jump Oikawa-san's bones," Makki joked.

"That is so pitiful."

"He's very confused," Tooru said.

"Deluded."

"Deranged."

"Demented."

"He's coming over here…"

"Be still, my beating heart," Tooru joked, and they laughed some more.

Hajime stopped beside the car. "Hi," he said to Tooru, but he didn't get a response. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, confused. "The play's going to be really good."

"I'm really glad you think so," Tooru said in a mocking tone, earning a laugh from the others.

"I guess you don't want to practice lines tonight," said Hajime.

"You guessed right."

Hajime gave him a funny look before walking away, and Tooru hated how he bad he felt. His fake smile faltered a bit.

"That's one guy who can't take a hint," Tooru's girlfriend commented.

"That's because he doesn't know what a hint is," Tooru said snarkily, and they laugh again. Tooru didn't this time, though. He followed Hajime with his eyes.

_**#** _

Tooru took Mondays off from practice because of his bad knee. Even so, he usually still shows up to practice, intending not to miss anything and sometimes pointing out his team's mistakes. This time, however, he headed straight home and went to his room, sitting by the window, anxiously tapping his feet on the ground.

He was waiting for Hajime to arrive home. He didn't know why he was doing this, but he thought it would make the weight in his chest lighter.

He spotted Hajime's figure approaching. He stood up, but decided to wait until Hajime gets in their house. Once Hajime disappeared inside their threshold, Tooru headed down the stairs and outside the door, walking over to the house beside his. He rang the doorbell.

The door opened, and when Hajime saw that it was Tooru, he closed the door immediately. Tooru caught a glimpse of a stern-looking Iwaizumi-san before the door was shut to his face.

He couldn't believe it. Did Tooru do something to offend him? Tooru rang the doorbell again. "Iwa-chan?" He knocked. "Open up." Knock. "Open up, please." Knock. "Iwaizumi-san, I have to talk to your son—"

"What's your problem?" Hajime stood in front of Tooru, one arm behind the door. He was still wearing that hideous sweater from school. He looked angry.

"You're not in a very good mood," Tooru observed.

"You don't miss a thing. Is that what you learned as one of the best setters in our prefecture?"

Tooru hopped off the front porch. "The play's in a couple of weeks."

"And?"

"I was hoping we could run lines together."

"Oh," Hajime said stiffly. "Just not at school, huh?"

"Yeah—"

"Or any place where people could see us…"

Tooru swallowed. "Um, my girlfriend is a very jealous person."

"Yeah. Because that's the reason." Hajime nodded. "So you want us to be secret friends."

"That's it!" Tooru clapped excitedly. "Exactly! You read my mind!"

"The maybe you can read mine." Hajime turned without waiting for another response. "I thought I saw something in you, something good. I was wrong." Then he closed the door shut. He locked it loudly, cementing the fact that he will never open it again, should Tooru knock.

Iwaizumi-san looked out the curtains and glowered at Tooru, before disappearing.

Tooru stared at the house, confused, wondering why the hell Hajime refused his generoud offer of friendship. Iwa-chan was lucky I even offered to be his friend. "God, you're so weird!" he said loudly before retreating to his own home.

Tooru skipped dinner that night and instead locked himself in his room, telling his mom he wasn't hungry when she called him down to eat. He sat in front of his computer, hugging his knees to his chest, headphones on, looking intently at the screen, the way he always does when he's looking at match reruns. Except he was watching a British nature documentary about astronomy.

He blinked, and his concentration faltered. He paused the documentary and took his headphones off, stretching his limbs and back. His gaze wandered, landing on a pile of books on his desk. One of the books stood out particularly. His old middle school yearbook.

He reached out for it, flipping the pages until he found Hajime's picture. He was smiling and almost looked cute. His hair was as spiky as ever, and his eyes were happy. Listed under his picture were the clubs he joined: _Red Cross, Stars and Planets, Drama._

 _Ambition: to witness a miracle_.

_**#** _

On Saturday, Tooru and Miyanoshita sat around a circular table at Seijoh's library similar to their sister school's. Tooru had just asked her a question, to which the poor girl just bit her lip at.

"Can't we do science instead?" she pleaded, hating the way she felt dumb. "I'm not stupid, I swear."

"I know that," Oikawa said. "But you have to work on the parts you're having trouble with to improve. You won't get better in math if you keep studying science. Besides, they go hand in hand, don't they?"

"The practice makes perfect concept doesn't really apply here, Oikawa-senpai," Miyanoshita said. "This isn't really like volleyball."

"Except," Oikawa said, "it is. Come with me."

Miyanoshita, confused, followed him outside. Oikawa ran to get a ball from the girls' volleyball gym (which was the nearest) and returned to where Miyanoshita was, only this time he out some distance between them.

"Suppose I serve from here." Oikawa threw the ball upwards and jumped, grinning a little when he felt the impact of his hand hitting the ball. The stinging in his palm made him crave for more, but he set it aside for now to focus on Miyanoshita. "The highest point is over there, yeah?" Oikawa gestured vaguely. "The time it took for the ball to reach that point is equal to the time it took for it to reach the ground."

"So that's why you multiply it by 2 first," Miyanoshita deduced.

"Exactly. Since the highest point is over there, and I'm standing here, while it landed directly at the spot opposite to me, we can assume that the angle is around 90 degrees," Oikawa said. "You getting it, or am I too fast?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Then you just have to follow the formula, right?"

"Yeah, the one I taught you," Oikawa said, pleased. "See? It's easy."

"I've always been more of a visual learner," Miyanoshita admitted. "That's why I lean more towards science because it's stuff I can actually see."

"Well, now that you've gotten it," Oikawa said, "I think you deserve a break from all the studying. Let's play!"

"Oh, I don't know how to play volleyball."

"I'll teach you! I am your tutor after all. Come here!" Tooru tossed her the ball. "Just hit it here," he said, pointing to the spot between his elbows and his wrists.

Miyanoshita's receive was a bit sloppy, but it didn't bother him one bit. "Yeah that's it," he coaxed with a smile. "When I toss to you, just hit it. I'll give you the best tosses you will ever have in this lifetime~"

Tooru had a habit of wanting to please others, a quality that made him a great setter. He was a good observer, so he knew what his teammates want. He'd go out of his way to make them comfortable and happy. That's how he could bring out the best in everyone. He knew people's needs and would adapt to them. And that's what he was doing to Miyanoshita. The girl was barely moving, yet here he was moving from a toss to a receive, just so she could have fun, and she was; smiling and whooping when she spiked.

The ball flew the wrong way from a bad receive. Miyanoshita volunteered to get it. Subconsciously, Tooru looked at the library, as if it was an inborn instinct to look for Hajime, and saw Hajime glancing over from the inside of the library, looking at them through the jalousie windows. Their eyes met. Hajime looked away after a few seconds, but Tooru's eyes stayed, trained on him. Watching, but not staring.

Miyanoshita called him to play, throwing him the ball.

_**#** _

There was an afternoon practice match that Saturday, just a little bit after lunch, and because the tutoring only lasted for half a day, Tooru was able to join his teammates.

When he arrived, huffing a bit as he ran over from home where he ate lunch, they had already begun warming up so he went to the side to do his own stretches.

They were playing against Datekou today, and Tooru fully intended to win.

And win they did. They dominated the practice match 6 to 3, which wasn't necessarily a bad outcome, but not exactly what Tooru wanted. He had hoped for a straight victory of 9, or even 8 to 1, but this was okay too, he supposed.

It was 7 when they finished the last set, and the boys of Seijoh's volleyball team were insanely ravenous, so their coach offered to treat them all to dinner (mostly because he got sick of their incessant groans and complaints).

"Oh shut up, you lot," he'd said. "Fine, fine, dinner is on me."

The interior of the ramen shop was warm and had a homey feel to it. The instant they stepped inside, their hunger multiplied by a hundredfold, the saliva-inducing aroma from the kitchen wafting to their nose, further intensified by their already screaming stomach and muscles.

The team scattered around, eating in separate tables with their own groups. Tooru, Makki, and Mattsun all huddled in front of the chef so they could easily ask for seconds.

The atmosphere was lively and buzzing. Everyone happily wolfed down their hearty dinner, occasionally pausing to talk or laugh and whatnot.

They finished eating a little while later, and one by one they dispersed into the night, headed towards their own homes, eager to relax their muscles with a cold shower. As Tooru made his way home, however, he happened to pass by an old bookstore. He peered inside, and his eye landed on something he never thought would pique his interest.

He found himself opening a book on spiritual learning, standing before the Religion shelf. There were only a couple of people at the bookstore, not that he cared. With a start, he realized he never thought about worrying if any of his schoolmates would see him reading a book on religion.

The religion section was in the far back of the store, so he took a seat in one of the corners by the shelves. He traced the book with his fingers, feeling the cover and the engraved letters under his skin.

He made a move to open the book, but stopped. He looked up and looked around him, at the books, at the texts that surrounded him. All this knowledge, all this information, all the learning that could be his — if he knew where to look, if he tried.

Perhaps that was why Oikawa Tooru went home that night as a new man.

_**#** _

Tooru stood by the wings, out of sight, looking at the characters onstage as he waited for his cue. Today marked the first (and last, Tooru hoped) of their presentation for the school play. The auditorium was packed. Outside, a bright marquee with red edges illuminated the canopy at the auditorium entrance.

 _ **THE WALKING THUNDER**_ , it said, _**All Invited**_. The parking lot was in full capacity and behind the stage, the students involved were in a full swing chaos, running around, retouching makeup, fixing last minute designs and complaining about being hungry.

Tooru had stepped away from the pandemonium and stood a little closer to the stage, looking at the ongoing play.

"Then why don't you talk to him?" Bokuto, who played Tooru's character's father, said.

"Because if I do, he'll think we're trying to get rid of him."

"He'll sure think the same if I do it. You're her father and comes a time when a father's gotta mention."

From stage right, Hajime made his entrance as Peter. A collective gasp was heard from the audience. There, Hajime stood, in a black, well-ironed suit, a black tie and polished shoes. His hair was spiked up, and he looked beautiful.

"'Morning, Pop," he said. He loosened his tie and tossed it over his shoulder. He took off his suit jacket draped it over a prop chair. He unbuttoned the first two buttons of his undershirt, exposing his jaw-dripping collarbones that complimented his chiseled jawline. "I dreamed we had a rain, rain coming down in sheets! Lightning flashed, thunder rolled up and down the canyon like a kid with a big drum!"

From where he stood, Tooru could see Iwaizumi-san watching his son intently, enraptured. The principal looked hopeful, and Tooru could see his friends snickering from where they sat.

"I know why you sent me to Sweetriver. Six boys in that family. The first three days, I stayed in my room," Hajime said as Peter.

"What'd you do that for?"

The curtain closed as the scene changed. The table and chairs were removed, and Hajime was left standing in the middle. A full-length mirror stood beside him. The curtains opened once more, and Tooru took this as his cue to enter. "You'll look in that mirror and you'll be more than handsome. You'll be beautiful. Look at me. Tell me what you see!" As he stood in front of Hajime, in all his rugged beauty, he found that he meant it.

There must have been something in the way Tooru looked back at him, because Hajime nearly choked his words off. "Is it really me?" Hajime looked at Tooru in wonder, and also with something else Tooru couldn't quite put a finger on yet.

"Yes," Tooru said. And before he could stop himself or lose his courage, he added, "You're beautiful."

Hajime's eyes widened a fraction in surprise. That wasn't a line in the script, and they both knew Tooru meant it.

Tooru started to lean in, and their lips crashed just as the curtain closed.

_**#** _

"I hope your dreams come true." It was this scene again. The one they practiced over and over, so much that it was deeply ingrained in Tooru's head.

"They won't."

"Believe in yourself, and they will. Look at the stars tonight, Peter. They sing for you. Believe, and they will guide you."

Their hands were intertwined as they sat on a makeshift cliff. There was a fake moon behind them, and the stage lights were trained on no one else but them. "How am I supposed to know, Zach? How am I supposed to know if the stars are my guide or my poison?"

"Listen to your heart." Tooru's voice was hard and rough, throat a bit dry as his lips still tingled from the kiss. He could barely look at Hajime in the eyes. "It reaches out to you. All you need to do is listen. It tells you the truth."

"Before we part," Hajime said, "you must tell me: am I beautiful?"

"Yes, you are," Tooru said. And he meant it. "You're ethereal, comparable to Narcissus himself, like an ancient Greek statue. Skin smooth like stone, features distinct and detailed like God was a careful artist, and you were His design."

_**#** _

The play ended and the curtain closed for the nth time that night, this time for good. The resounding round of applause was heard even from backstage, and Hajime couldn't stop himself from grinning, pleased at the success of the play.

Tooru was a different story. He took off his costume and walked out the backdoor, running out into the parking lot in search for his friends. On the way out he ran into the principal who congratulated him and shook his hand, before turning to the other cast members.

Tooru spotted his girlfriend getting into his car. He called her, and she stopped, giving him a cold, hard look.

"What?" she said.

"Are you angry?" Tooru asked. When she didn't answer, he added, "You know I don't like men that way." A throb of ache pulsated from his chest to his ribcage as he said it.

"Why did you kiss him?" she demanded.

"It's in the script," Tooru defended, "it's part of the play."

"Then why did you look at him like that?" Distress was evident in her tone and facial features. "You never looked at me that way, why him? If you don't like men, why did you look at him like you were in love?"

Love? Tooru froze. Was that really how he looked at Hajime?

She scoffed. "I thought so." She got into her car and drove away, leaving a confused Tooru with his heart threatening to jump out of his body.

His mind ran a hundred miles a minute, and his face turned hot and pink. _I'm straight_ , he told himself, but a nagging itch at the back of his mind made him think, _Right?_

He thought about the cemetery and his instinct to look for Hajime whenever he was in the room. He thought about the things Hajime made him say and feel, things he never would have thought he would ever admit to himself. He thought about Hajime broke down the barriers he put up for himself, the masks he perfected and constantly wore to hide his true emotions, all in a span of a few weeks. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that they've always lived next to each other since they were kids, that Hajime could see through him without having to look closely, as if a mere glance was enough to see the inner turmoils he thought he kept locked away from the rest of the world.

Hajime made him think of stuff he never saw himself pondering. With Makki and Mattsun, they would never talk about God or stars and look at planets through telescopes at the crack of dawn in a cemetery. Hell, Hajime even got him reading religious books without meaning to.

Is this what love really was? Tooru never really knew. Sure he'd had girlfriends, but they were just flings that lasted for a week. And for show. Who wouldn't think weirdly about a popular, girlfriend-less guy surrounded with other guys from late afternoon to early evening everyday? People would think he's gay!

And yet here he was, possibly in love with a boy his age, a boy who didn't give a single shit about what other thought of him, a boy who sang hymns for God, a boy who smiled with his teeth and laughed with his heart, the isolated boy who wore ugly sweaters and danced to his own tune, the quiet boy who talked to the planets and wanted to see through other worlds, the boy who went to the cemetery early after midnight hoping to see his mother with the stars, the boy who had the universe wrapped around his thumb and didn't think about doing anything with it, the boy who wanted to witness a miracle.

Hajime, the only one who could see him for who he truly is. The one who lived next door and used to catch bugs alone when he was five because Tooru refused to join him. The one he had known since forever, but never really cared enough to know more, until the parallel lines that were their lives finally intersected.

And Tooru learned that perhaps stars can be posion after all. You'd look up to them and think they'd guide you towards only what's best for you, but sometimes what's best for you isn't what you wanted. It is only the truth that they speak, even if the truth isn't what you need. A harsh reality, a sudden wake up call. They'd slap that to your face and tell you to get over it, because that's what your heart sings and they're tired of you turning a deaf ear and pretending you don't hear it.

It was there that Tooru realized, under the poison stars that glared at him for ignoring the blatant truth that had been staring him in the face, that he was indeed in love with Iwaizumi Hajime, with his stupid, ugly sweater and his stupid, ugly face that made Tooru's heart beat a hundred times faster than anyone ever could.

He touched his fingers to his lips, and remembered the taste of Hajime's. The kiss had lasted for only a few short seconds, as Hajime had abruptly pulled away after the curtains touched the stage. Tooru had kissed many girls before, but he never thought twice about it afterwards. He never—

"Tooru."

He looked back, dropping his hand to his side. His soft eyes turned into a hard stare as he looked at the man before him.

Oikawa Ryusei. His father.

"Fine performance," he said casually, like he didn't leave Tooru and his mother for another woman, as if everything was alright with the world.

"Who invited you?" Tooru asked bitterly.

"The principal." Ryusei give him a sort of strained smile. "I thought we might get a bite."

"Not hungry." Oikawa moved towards his car.

"Tooru, please! Don't walk away from me."

"Like you walked away from us?" Tooru said without turning back, malice laced in his voice the way it had been engraved in his heart ever since his family started breaking apart.

_**#** _

Tooru waited by Hajime's getabako before class started, but no Hajime showed up. Pursing his lips, he went to class with low spirits, barely talking to anyone, even Mattsun and Makki. The same story was told at lunch and at the library, and even after school. Tooru practiced with his team as usual but even the coach could tell he was having an off day. He walked home quietly, walking only a few steps behind Makki and Mattsun.

"Hey, you already got your car back, right?" Mattsun said, and Tooru gave a small nod. "Why don't we go over to the junkyard near my house and give it a few fixes? Some parts are usually broken after they confiscate it. We can eat first at my place if you want to."

"It works just fine," Tooru said dismissively.

Makki and Mattsun shared a look. "Man, what's with you?" Makki asked. "You've been out of it the whole day."

"Nothing's wrong with me."

"So go with us," Makki said, "let's fix up your car."

Tooru sighed, looking away. He knew he couldn't get out of this. "Okay. Let's swing by my house first; I'll go get it."

Recently, Tooru prefered walking to and from school or riding his bike instead of his car. Maybe it was Hajime's influence rubbing off on him. Tooru immediately shook his head at the thought, catching himself before he could fall to another spiral of where was he? and did I do something wrong?

When they reached his house, Tooru cast a long, desperate glance at the house beside his — lights off, doors locked — and wondered if they went somewhere, before heading inside. He didn't bother letting his mom know he was home or taking off his shoes or letting Makki and Mattsun in. He grabbed his keys and said, "I'm going out, mom."

Closing the door behind him, he turned to his car and unlocked it, slipping inside. Makki and Mattsun follow suit, Mattsun in the passenger seat and Makki in the back. Tooru drove them to the Makki's house where they ate some katsudon, courtesy of Mattsun's mom. Then they headed over to the junkyard and silently checked Tooru's car for damages and looked for the appropriate parts to fix it with.

Once they collected enough parts, Makki and Mattsun sat on the hood of the car adjacent to Tooru's. Makki reached into his pocket and pulled out a few cigarettes. He handed Mattsun one, and they lit the sticks and took a drag.

"Want one?" Makki offered, but Tooru declined with a shake of his head. He began hammering the dents in the hood of his car. "Suit yourself."

"So the play is finally over," Mattsun said lightly. "You can stop hanging out with those nerds now."

It was true. Mizoguchi-sensei was satisfied enough with their performance that he didn't ask for a re-run.

"Yeah," Tooru murmured and didn't say much else.

"He's something else, that Iwaizumi," Mattsun continued, and Tooru tensed, bracing himself for another round of bullshit bullying from his friends. He wondered how he would react.

"He's like some Puritan," Makki snorted. "It's honestly heartbreaking and pitiful."

"He's not," Tooru said coldly, trying to keep the spite from his voice. "He just has his own ideas."

"Mutant ideas," Mattsun said. "It's a miracle you managed to put up with him for so long."

"Maybe to you," Tooru said. He saw them exchange a look out of the corner of his eye. He rolled his eyes. He can't believe he used to be like that, insulting others for no damn reason other than the fact that they're different and not what the stupid student body perceives to be the norm.

"Your girlfriend's telling everyone the kiss was real," Makki goaded.

"It was," Tooru said, "and she's not my girlfriend. Not anymore."

"Aw, she broke up with you?" Mattsun teased. "My, our resident playboy is off his game."

"She said you two are going out," Makki said, not a hint of a smile on his face.

"Is that so bad?" Tooru asked.

Makki took a drag. He released the smoke and watched it rise into the night. There was a hint of a smile on his face, and Tooru wasn't sure if it was teasing or genuine.

He wondered if that's what it felt like, if he was an outsider and he looked at himself. He had put on so many masks, even he didn't know what was real sometimes. Is this what others feel when they look at me? he thought. Confused, not knowing how I truly feel? Or am I that good at pretending that they don't even know it's not true?

Hajime would. He would know. He could decipher the mess that is Tooru with a single glance. One look is all it takes for him to see the things Tooru kept locked away.

"You want the truth?" Makki said, and Tooru nodded.

Makki licked his lips and dropped his cigarette to the ground, reaching over with his leg to put it out. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, Oikawa, it's bad."

"Is it because he's a boy?" Tooru asked.

Makki didn't answer for a while. "That and the fact that he's, well, he's Iwaizumi," Makki shrugged.

"What's wrong with that?" Tooru demanded. "What's wrong with him?"

"You're really asking that?" Mattsun said. "What's he done to you? Have you forgotten? He's the outcast who people only talk to because he's the minister's son. He's a freak, and he's not good enough for you. There are even rumors that he's… you know."

"What's wrong with that?" Tooru pressed.

"It's just…" Makki looked uncomfortable, and Tooru was guilty of feeling slightly triumphant to see him squirm. "It's a little unnatural, don't you think? A boy and another boy… it's odd."

"Maybe," Tooru said with a shrug, but he didn't really mean it.

_**#** _

Tooru couldn't pinpoint the exact moment in his life that he became drawn to Hajime's gravity, falling into orbit despite the ugly sweaters and social aloofness. All he knew it that it seemed right, as if it had always been meant to be that way ever since the Oikawa moved in next door. He briefly wondered what his life had been before Hajime. He couldn't remember.

Hajine had been this constant presence around him, a part of him even when they weren't together, in his thoughts if not in front of him. They hadn't been all too close since their fight, however, and Tooru felt like there was always something missing. Like this static in his head that he had been hearing his whole life had suddenly stopped, leaving him in absolute silence.

There was nothing more that Tooru hated more than silence.

There had been a nagging feeling in the back of his mind, clawing at his chest so much that sometimes it gets hard to breathe. And this nagging feeling had been eating away at him, slowly, savoring every piece of him til there was nothing left but bone and dead skin. He wanted to see Hajime again before he was going to be left for the vultures.

Tooru waited by Hajime's getabako again today and grinned in delight when he saw the other guy coming his way. His hair was as spiky as ever, and he wore a revolting yellow sweater that looked less like mustard and more like piss.

"You weren't at school yesterday," he said to Hajime.

"I went to the doctor with my father," Hajime said shortly.

"Is he okay?"

"Healthy as can be."

Tooru fell silent, and Hajime didn't help him break it. Instead he bent to take his shoes off and replaced it with the white pair in his getabako. "You were great the other night," Tooru commented.

"Thanks, so were you." He closed his shoe locker and ducked under Tooru's arm when he tried to touch Hajime.

"I haven't been nice to you," Tooru proclaimed. His gaze softened on Hajime, and his heart started like he was in a championship match.

"You haven't been nice to anyone."

"I'm sorry," Tooru said sincerely.

Oikawa Tooru was a boy who liked to say many things, and he often didn't mean them. He was the type to tell someone what they wanted to hear so they would treat him better, and so he could uphold his image. He was flattery and flowery words and false truths. He was very rarely genuine and hated having to show people that he had vulnerable skin under all that thick armor.

Tooru thought about the famous Greek hero, Achilles. The hero's mom had dipped him into the River Styx when he was young, making his body completely invincible to any form of attacks, except for his heel, which his mom had held on to when she dipped him in the river. One small strike to his heel would kill him.

Oikawa Tooru was a walking Achilles' heel. Every part of him was vulnerable and prone to destruction, and one small strike, even the tiniest of touches, would break him. Only his bravado and complex thought processes had been the only things keeping him breathing.

But not today. Here, in front of Hajime's getabako, a few minutes before the bell rang, he was baring his soul to another boy. It was a small 'I'm sorry', but it was enough to make his lungs tremble with anticipation and fright, enough to make his bones freeze and feel like a hundred pounds of steel.

Hajime gave him a pained smile. "I wish I could believe you."

He walked away after that, and Tooru didn't see him until lunch. Hajime stood, wearing that old yellow sweater, by the vending machine, pounding at the glass. He clicked his tongue and gave one last knock. When he still couldn't get the drink he paid for, he walked away with a frown on his face.

Tooru followed him to the cafeteria, where he sat in one of the tables, alone, and pulled out a book and his bento.

Tooru walked towards him, passing by Mattsun and Makki, who called him, to which he replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. He sat in front of Hajime, eyeing him. He could feel the curious stares on his back.

"People can see," Hajime said sharply without looking up from his book.

"And that would ruin your reputation how?" Tooru asked. Hajime fed himself some rice and pork instead of answering, eyes trained on his book.

"What's that?" Tooru asked, pertaining to Hajime's book.

"I'm reading all the novels on Mr. Rothberg's best American authors list."

"Your English must be impressive by now," Tooru said. "How many books are there?"

Hajime clicked his tongue and released a huge exhale. He looked at Tooru, annoyed. "A hundred. Then there's his classics list. And his European list."

It dawned on Tooru. "That's why you're reading all those books. It's in your life list."

Hajime blinked at Tooru, choosing not to answer. His face was blank and unreadable. "What do you want, Oikawa-san?"

Tooru internally winced at the honorific. He licked his lips before saying, "Maybe I want to try being positive."

Hajime's eyes on him, gauging his expressions, searching for any sign of truthfulness, made his palms sweat and skin itch. He cracked his knuckles nervously. "Maybe I miss doing that dumb play with you," he confessed. "Maybe you inspire me."

The students near them who overheard couldn't conceal their gasps.

"Sounds like horeseshit," Hajime said bluntly.

"Which part?"

"All of it."

"It's not."

Hajime started gathering his things, shoving his book and his unfinished bento in his bag. "Prove it." He stood and walked away, not pausing when Tooru threw his hands in the air in exasperation and said, "I just did!"

Tooru followed Hajime outside after school, jogging to catch up with Hajime who practically ran out the moment his homeroom teacher dismissed them. If Tooru had not been waiting outside Hajime's classroom, he wouldn't have caught up to Hajime.

"Iwa-chan," he called, reaching out to touch Hajime.

"Don't call me that." Hajime turned to face him, angrily shoving away his hand. "You lack honor. You lack compassion. You lack honesty. You lack humanity. You keep digging yourself deeper into that stupid hole of pretense just to save your own ass and keep people close only if they benefit you. And even then you still keep them at arm's length. You turn away from the truth and keep hiding behind all your masks and lies. I don't know why you think so lowly of theater when you're one of the best actors I've ever met. Forget volleyball, you should be a conman."

Hajime turned away from Tooru and headed to his car, Tooru at his tail.

"Okay, maybe some of it is true—" Tooru said slowly.

"All of it is true. You don't know the first thing about being someone's friend."

"I don't want to be just your friend."

"You don't know what you want," Hajime said heatedly.

"Maybe I don't," Tooru agreed, "but you don't either. Take a look at yourself. Maybe you're scared that someone might actually like you."

"And why would I be scared?"

"Because then you couldn't hide behind your books and your telescope and your sweater and your God."

Hajime slipped inside his car, starting the engine and putting it in reversing, backing away from the curb.

"But the real reason your scared?" Tooru continued. "Is because you like me. You know it."

Hajime ignored him and drove away.

Mattsun and Makki, who had been watching the whole time, started laughing at him, amused at his spectacle.

"If you were really my friends, you'd be helping me, not running me down," Tooru told them.

"The only one running you down is you," Mattsun said.

_**#** _

Tooru could hear the crowd roar and applaud, making his ears buzz and his blood dance. His heart hammered in his chest as he started warming up with nervous energy.

The Shiratorizawa cheer squad was on the other side of the court, banging away at their drums and shaking their props. The Seijioh audience was there, too, high, loud spirits giving the confidence boost Tooru needed.

They began doing their drills. "Makki!" Tooru called and tossed to him. Makki did a run-up and jumped, hitting the ball with a satisfying smack.

He, Mattsun, and Makki were still not on speaking terms. But the court was neutral ground. Here, their personal grievances shred away and left only their drive to win.

"Your tosses are as on point as ever, Oikawa-san," the younger coach told him.

Tooru nodded with a smile.

"Oikawa-kun~ Ganbatte, Oikawa-kun!"

Tooru looked up at his fans and gave them a wink, making them nearly pass out. He laughed and continued with the drills.

When they finished, they all gathered at the side, around the bench, where some drank water and others wiped their sweat from their faces.

Their coaches briefed them, saying the usual things about Shiratorizawa and Ushijima.

"Alright," Tooru said when they finished. "I—"

"We have faith in you captain."

Tooru froze, surprised, then relaxed and gave them a genuine smile, tilting his head. "Okay then," he said. "Let's kick their asses and go to nationals, yeah?"

And then it was time to greet the enemy. Each team stood on each side of the court, lined up side by side. The captains shook hands, and Tooru made sure to let Ushijima feel the fire coursing through his veins.

_SHIIIII-RATORIZAWA!_

_OHHH, SEIJOH! SEIJOH!_

Tooru listened to his school's cheers until he couldn't anymore, until all the noise inside the gym faded into a muffled sound in Tooru's ears, as if he plunged into water all of a sudden. All he could hear was his heart hammering and the whistle that pierced the air and his hunger for victory.

It was a tight match, and it was going great. The Aoba Johsai players were all in top shape. Even their most rogue wing spiker was surprisingly obedient and tamer.

Until Tooru had to be pulled out.

Ushijima plowed through their blocks, smashing through with brute force. By some miracle, their libero managed to save it, but it was long, and it was already flying out of bounds.

Tooru gritted his teeth and ran. The ball was heading over the barricades, and Tooru had to jump over with a yell, "Makki, get the last!"

He tried to fold himself so he would land with a roll to minimize the damage, but ended up landing on his right knee. "Fuck!" he cried out. He heard the whistle blow, and within seconds his teammates were surrounding him.

The muffled noise in his ears turned to pure chaos. He could hear shouts from their audience and cries from his fans. The younger coach was somewhere to his left, shouting at everyone to pull back, stay away. A medic came with a stretcher and worked with the coach to carry him to the infirmary.

Before Tooru was carried off, he sat up, ignoring the pain that spiked up his knee when he moved, and looked at his teammates. He was on the verge of tears. He wanted to scream and throw things. It really was unfair, the way things were going. His knee was already in bad shape, even before this incident, due to him always pushing his own body past its limits, praciticing til he dropped.

Tooru knew they were fucked. No one could toss like him, and they knew it. No one could kill the enemy the way he did, and they knew it. God, they knew it.

"I still hate you," Mattsun said, "but you did good."

"Leave the team to us now, eh, Captain?" Yahaba said with a half-hearted grin.

_**#** _

They lost.

Tooru sat alone on one of the swings of the old playground he used to think of his heaven when he was six, the moon watching him breathe. A few metres away from him parked an old, abandoned car. He ran his fingers on the rusty iron that held the swing up. His right knee was wrapped in a cast.

He was fresh out of the hospital, where he had stayed for almost two weeks and escaped from his house five hours ago for a breath of fresh air. It was way past dinner time, and he was hungry as hell, but for some reason he didn't want to go home yet. He wrapped his Seijoh jacket around him, feeling his limbs shake a little. It was dark except for the moon, no sounds but the rustle of leaves in the evening wind. His body can be caught in the occasional sweep of car headlights.

Deep in his thought, he didn't hear the approaching footsteps, didn't know there was another besides him, until a shadow stood before him, stopping right before it met his feet. He looked up, and it was Hajime.

He looked ethereal. He stood directly in front of the moon from where Tooru was sitting, so that there was a halo-like glow at the crown of his head, a white light that reminded Tooru of frost.

"I heard what happened."

"Iwa-chan," Tooru breathed. "I'm really sorry—"

"I know, Oikawa."

Of course he did. Hajime always knew him better than anyone else. Even when Tooru barely looked at him twice until recently, he was always looking, observing. He knew the inner workings of one Oikawa Tooru even more than the boy himself.

Hajime sat on the swing next to Tooru's. "I used to come here a lot, when I was younger." He smiled sheepishly. "This place is home to many bugs, and I've always liked catching them."

"I know," Tooru said.

"Yeah." Hajime looked down. "Your mom always told you to go with me, but you always said no. You'd play with your other friends over there." He pointed to the sand box. "And I'd hail my bug-catching net on the other side." There was no bitterness or hatred in his voice. Just the truth.

"What I would give to catch those damn bugs with you now," Tooru said. "I should have listened to mom."

"Why are you like that, Oikawa?" Hajime asked.

"Like what?"

"You say these things, and I know they're true, I believe in you, but I just…"

"Doubt," Tooru finished for him. "I'm an asshole."

"Damn right," Hajime agreed with a light laugh.

"Yeah, yeah." Oikawa waved him off. "I get it, you know? I know why you're hesitant to believe me this time because I've hurt you a hundred times before. Even when we were kids. You were never hostile to me even when I always pushed you away and called you names and only put up with you because our parents are friends. And when my dad left us, I got even worse. I'd join in when they talked about you behind your back, encourage them when they bullied you." He sighed. "I'm a dick."

"Maybe we're all like the Fermi paradox," Tooru continued, "an endless cycle of waiting and wondering. What's out there? What's not there? Where is this headed? What's going to happen? A couple of months ago, I never would have guessed that things would end up like this." He looked at Hajime with a sad smile. "I'm a blackhole, Iwa-chan. Your dad was right not to like me. I swallow the light out of everything and I destroy all that I see. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be the light instead of the dark. I want to be your light."

"I thought I told you not to fall in love with me," Hajime said, returning Tooru's smile.

"I think you're at fault in that aspect," Tooru teased, "since you made it difficult for me not to."

"And you're okay with it?" Hajime asked. "That you're in love with a guy?"

"Surprisingly, yeah," he said. "I honestly thought I wouldn't. Maybe I've always known. My girlfriends had all been just for show, anyway. I was probably just in denial." He licked his lips. "I should be asking you that, though. You grew up in a religious household, after all."

"I've always known I was bisexual," Hajime admitted. "And my dad wasn't okay with it until recently. He's trying, though, especially since…"

"Since?"

Hajime shook his head. "Nothing." And he didn't say anything more.

"How do you do that, Iwa-chan?" Oikawa started. "It hasn't been long since we became friends, and yet you know me more than Mattsun and Makki, more than me. I can't lie to you because you can see through it and call me out without looking too closely."

"I don't know." Hajime shrugged. "Gut feeling, I guess. Intuition. I think a decade of being next door neighbors does that too a guy. Besides, it's hard not to end up observing you when you're just screaming for attention."

"I do not."

"You do."

"Do not."

"Do too. It's because you're shitty. Shittykawa."

"You talk to your dad with that mouth?"

"Shut up."

When Tooru came home that night, hunger long forgotten, he was surprised to see his mom still in the kitchen, sipping tea and still wearing her uniform.

"Out with your girlfriend?" she asked.

Tooru cringed. "That's over. Way over."

"I don't know what's going on in your life lately," she said. "I can't know if you don't tell me."

Tooru paused. "Dad came to the play. Did you know?"

A tiny gasp escaped her lips. "You saw him?" she asked, surprised.

"We talked. He wanted to get a bite. I said no."

She scoffed in disbelief. "After he moved out, I invited him to every practice, every game, every parent-teacher conference you ever had. He didn't show, not once."

"Well, he wants to show now."

"And you're just gonna let him?" she asked. "You going to reward him by being the son he was never man enough to be a father to?"

Tooru didn't answer. He was tired of running away. Sure, his father was a dick, the scum he never wanted to lay his eyes on again. But he was tired of being chased and pushing people away. His father didn't deserve an ounce of his attention, but if he let the hatred get into his head, it won't be long until it gets into his heart, and he was afraid that he'd lose control of who he was once more.

"You do that then," his mom said angrily.

_**#** _

December came by fast. Tooru had been working on perfecting (as close as he gets to perfection) his car for nearly a month now, just to keep himself busy, as he was advised ro take Tuesdays off too, hoping to get it to top shape as best as he can, and at the same time, working on his relationship with Hajime.

It wasn't much of a relationship yet and more of a friendship still, though, since Hajime never explicitly said that the feeling was mutual and kept treating him like he would a friend.

But Tooru had always been a determined guy. He wasn't one to give up easily.

He kept at his year-long service projects while still going to practice (to observe, on, Mondays and Tuesdays) and working on his car. Often times he would see the principal looking at him in the hallways while he was mopping the tiled floors, almost approving and proud.

Today, Saturday, the tutors and the tutored were all invited to a Christmas party in Aoba Johsai High, hosted by the laymen. The library was transformed into a mini party venue: some of the chairs pushed to the side and stacked on top of one another, Christmas lights and other decorations livening the room, food on some of the tables, and Rock n' Roll Christmas music playing from a Bluetooth speaker. By the door situated a raffle ticket box that read 'Win Movie Tickets.'

Tooru stepped in, buying a ticket and taking off his leather tie. Underneath is a nice dress shirt and a tie. His hair was perfect as usual (not that he would take anything less), and he wore his glasses instead of putting on his contacts.

He spotted Hajime across the room, wearing a dress shirt of his own, except his tie rested on his shoulder and some of his buttons were unbuttoned. He looked stunning. He was laughing about something with his student when Tooru came over.

"What is it with you and unbuttoned dress shirts?" he said, flicking Hajime's tie.

"Hello to you too," he said. He gave Tooru a once over and said, "You look nice."

"I do, don't I?"

"You're a piece of shit."

"My, my, aren't you hot when you curse."

"I hate you."

Before Tooru could retort, however, Miyanoshita called him, running over to him. "Heya, Oikawa-senpai."

"Hello, Miyanoshita-san."

The principal went to the microphone on the podium and tapped it twice. "Everyone? Quiet, please. As you all know, we're here to celebrate the holidays and to raise money to buy books for our library. The book drive is being led by Aoba Johsai Iwaizumi Hajime."

Tooru raised an eyebrow, but wasn't entirely surprised. Everyone applauded Hajime as he stepped behind the podium with a smile on his face.

"Thank you for buying tickets. We've raised thirty thousand and seven hundred eigh yen." More applause greeted he as he stepped down.

"About enough to buy maybe five volumes in a set of encyclopedias," Tooru told Miyanoshita.

"It's a start," Hajime said. He must have heard.

"Yeah, with a finish in about a decade," he teased. Miyanoshita and Hajime's student excused themselves to join the others in their batch. "What's the number one in your list?"

Hajime only shook his head in reply.

"Mine would be to get the hell out of here," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "Then maybe become a pro player. But I started thinking that maybe there are other things I want to do too."

"Getting out won't be your problem. It'll be figuring out what you want when you get somewhere," Hajime told him.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you can do anything," he said casually, like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"It's baffling how you have this much belief in me. I'm probably not good enough to go pro. Or last long." He tapped his right knee.

"What's baffling is how much you deny yourself of the credit you deserve," Hajime said, walking away with a wave, leaving Tooru to wonder why Hajime believed in him so much.

_**#** _

Tooru never really saw the big deal about Christmas Eve. When he was a kid, he used to get really excited, but as he grew up, it became just another night before actual Christmas.

Tonight, however, he felt that old childlike joy rekindling his spirit, and he felt a buzz in his bones as he bounced downstairs with the best Christmas sweater (as best as a Christmas sweater can get) he could find and a brown shopping bag.

"Someone's excited," his mom commented. "You look all Christmas-y. I should have dressed."

"You're fine like that, okaasan," Tooru assured her, sitting on one of the couches.

"There's hot cinder in the kitchen," she said.

"Thanks," he said with a smile but didn't make a move to stand.

"I haven't seen Mattsun or Makki lately," she said in an airy, I-don't-really-care-but-I'm-gonna-ask-anyway tone that made him think she actually cared.

His smile turned sharp and fake. "Me neither."

"It's their loss, though, yeah?"

Tooru exhaled. He stood up. "I need to go out."

"Where? To see your father?" she accused, eyeing the paper bag in his hand.

"Merry Christmas, mom." Tooru heard the hurt in her voice but left anyway. He walked over to the house next door rang the doorbell, knocking when there was no answer. He shifted the paper bag from his left hand to his right.

The door opened, revealing Hajime. Behind him, Iwaizumi-san sat on the floor, legs tucked under the rest of his body, playing cards in hand.

Tooru extended his hand towards Hajime, awkwardly handing him the bag. "It's a present. Take it."

He did. He opened it and pulled a beautiful blue sweater.

"Wear that instead of your ugly brown one," Tooru joked.

"Maybe I will, Shittykawa. Thanks."

"Are you really gonna swear when your dad's right there?" he teased.

Hajime rolled his eyes and closed the door to Tooru's face.

"Merry Christmas!" he yelled, hopping off the Iwaizumi front porch. "And to all, a good night!"

Tooru swore he heard Hajime's laugh behind the door.

Moving on to the next item in his agenda, he unlocked his car and got in, driving to the hospital. He approached the nurse station and asked for directions. A nurse pointed him to patient room.

He opened the door. A TV flickered in the front of the room, and a pile of Christmas gifts rested at one corner of the room.

"For me, Christmas is all about the smells," he said as he entered. "Pine's my favorite. That and cider with cloves."

"Oikawa-san?" Kageyama Tobio said in surprise when Tooru sat down beside him.

"Hey, Tobio-chan." He offered Kageyama a smile. "I'm sorry. For what I did. And for not visiting you sooner. I have only recently realized how much of a dick I am."

"Well, if you've already realized it, then there's no point of me telling you that I was pissed and scared," Kageyama said. He was probably joking, but it was hard to tell since he wasn't good at facial expressions.

"You should," Tooru said. "Tell me, I mean. Tell me how much you hate me and how scared you were. Go on. I won't get mad. That's less than what I deserve, anyway. Hit me, whatever. Get it out of your system."

"I don't hate you and I'm not gonna hit you," Kageyama said. "I'm just pissed I had to skip practice for months, miss the Inter-highs and had a career-ending injury scare. Thought that was the end of my volleyball until they said I was going to be clear next month."

"That must've sucked," Tooru empathized. "I can't imagine not being able to play volleyball again. I'm really sorry, Tobio-chan. I mean it. I'm not forcing you to forgive me though; just letting you know."

"Why did you do it?" Kageyama asked. "That night."

"I've always been jealous of you," Oikawa confessed, "and your natural talent in volleyball. You were good at what you did and it had been that way since you could remember. I had to work harder than most, and even then it still wasn't enough. _Talent is something you make bloom,_ my coach always said, _instinct is something you polish_. I couldn't compete with what you had so I had to fight in my own way.

"That made me bitter and lament on the unfairness of life. Why couldn't I be as good as you? And even if I was better than you right now, your raw, inborn talent will always be something I can't have, and eventually you'll catch up to me, and I'll be left in the dust, because you're a genius and I'm not.

"Then Mattsun and Makki suggested one day that we should pull a prank on someone, and you were the first person that popped into my mind. It's petty and disgusting, but back then I let hatred and jealousy get to me, so much that I felt you were taking something that I didn't realize I would always have.

"I didn't realize, back then, that I had my talents and you had your own. I had tunnel vision and only saw what you had instead of what I had. When you came to Aoba Johsai, I felt angry. How dare you stand on my stage?

"I didn't believe in my own skills and feared you'd take my place as the official setter, even when I had nothing to worry about. I'm not saying you're not a threat, Tobio-chan. I'm just saying that I see my own worth now, and you're gonna need a lot more to take me down.

"So anyway, I told them we should pull the prank on you, and now here we are. And I'm really sorry. Truly. It was wrong of me to hurt you and scare you into thinking that you would have to give up on your dreams."

"I forgive you, Oikawa-san," Kageyama said, "and I'm sorry that I made you feel inferior."

Tooru snorted, leaning back. "Don't get on your high horse. You don't get to apologize for making me insecure. Don't do that. Ever." He gave Kageyama one of his rare genuine smiles. "I'm sorry again. Are we good?"

"Yeah." A pause. "Is your knee okay?"

Tooru grimaced. "As okay as it gets. You probably could have taken us to nationals, had you been there."

Kageyama only shook his head.

Tooru left the room when Kageyama's parents entered. He excused himself and bid Kageyama a goodbye, before exiting the hospital and getting into his car for the last time.

Tooru sped, the windows open, wind whipping his hair. _Dream on!!_ by Burnout Syndromes was blasting from the speakers. The car turned and braked and turned  
again, kicking up gravel, raising hell.

The car slid to a stop just as the song ended. Tooru turned off the music and sat still. He wiped the rearview mirror clean, spotless, and untied the dangling plastic skeleton and pocketed it.

"Good evening," he said to the salesman that greeted him when he stepped out of his car. "It's a good thing your shop is still open at this time."

The salesman tried to stifle his yawn. "Christmas is usually when the business booms. So many want to sell their old cars and buy new ones as gifts."

"Alright." He tapped the hood of his car. "What do you think about her?"

"Eighty six thousand and a hundred," the salesman said.

"It's got a new V-6 and transmission. Alloy wheels," Tooru said. "A million and three hundred thousand."

"One hundred two thousand and four hundred," the salesman bargained.

"New paint. Extra chrome. Not a scratch anywhere," Tooru said. "A million and three hundred thousand."

"The interior is—"

"Completely reconditioned," Tooru interrupted. "Might be a collector's someday. A million and three hundred thousand yen."

The salesman gritted his teeth. "You can't expect me to pay you for your attachment to that car."

Tooru slyly glanced at the other car dealership across the street, then adopted the surly, vaguely-threatening attitude of old. "I don't. I expect you to pay me for yours."

The salesman looked from Tooru to the car, then pulled out a wad of cash from his pocket and wearily counted out the bills.  
Tooru took the money, touched the car's hood one last time, then walked away.

Home was still far away, but he didn't mind the walk. _Really_ , he said to himself as he watched cars come and go, headlights nearing him, then rushing past, _I don't mind at all._

_**#** _

The bike ride to school was a relatively short one. He stopped beside the old station wagon that parked in the principal's parking space, propping his bike up with its kickstand. He took in the school; a huge marquee that said _**HAPPY HOLIDAYS**_ , empty parking lot, and not much else.

Snow littered the ground, pushed down by the soles of his shoes as he walked. He trudged along the hallways and sropped before the principal's office. He knocked on the already open door, announcing his arrival, making the principal look up from his paperwork.

"Oikawa-san?" he asked.

Tooru wordlessly stepped into the office and dumped a folded wad of hundreds in the table. "For the book drive," he said. "Iwaizumi Hajime's book drive."

The principal looked at him suspiciously. "Where did you get this?"

"For fuck's sake, I didn't steal it," he said angrily. "It's mine to give."

"I didn't say you did," the principal said. But his tone had implied it, and Tooru was already gone. The principal was immediate sorry. He went to the window and saw Tooru pedal away in his bike.

When Tooru got home, he watched the tow truck lower the abandoned car from the park the other night onto their driveway.

The car was down, and Tooru went to the tow truck driver to give his thanks and pay. The driver accepted it and drove away.

"I heard what you did."

Tooru turned and saw Hajime, leaning by the pillar of their front porch. He hopped down and went to greet Tooru.

"Thank you," Hajime said.

Tooru nodded, but quickly changed the subject. "She great or what?" He jerked his head to the direction of his new-old car.

"Why are you doing all this?" Hajime asked. "To impress me?"

"No." Tooru paused. "But are you? Inpressed, I mean."

Hajime only smiled and shrugged. He started to walk back to his house.

"New Year's Eve," Tooru called. "Would you go out with me?"

Hajime stopped and turned around, surprised. "Okay," he said finally, after a long pause. "But not as a date date."

"Why not?"

"I'm not allowed to date." He smiled and walked inside his house.

That afternoon, Tooru went to Iwaizumi-san's church, knowing he would be there. He walked the hallways until he reached a door labeled **Reverend Iwaizumi** and peeked inside.

Iwaizumi-san was sitting behind his desk, examining legal-looking documents and records. He took his glasses off and rubbed his eyes.

Tooru knocked, making the older man look up. "Iwaizumi-san. Good afternoon. May I ask you something?"

"Is this about my son?"

"Yes."

Iwaizumi-san made a small, circular motion with his hand, gesturing for Tooru to come inside.

Tooru entered but didn't sit. "I'd like to take Iwa-chan to dinner on New Year's Eve."

"That won't be possible," he said, and he turned back to his papers as a sign that the conversation was over.

Tooru — stubborn, determined Tooru — didn't back down. "I'm sorry I haven't always treated Iwa-chan the way I should have. He deserves better. Honestly."

Iwaizumi-san looked up, surprised that Tooru was still there. "Then you probably understand why I don't approve of you."

"I care for him."

"I don't want to see him hurt."

"I wouldn't do that."

Iwaizumi-san looked at him blankly. "You already did."

"It won't happen again," Tooru promised.

The reverend looked out the window. A gray day greeted him outside — cold, bitter, stark. There was still snow and ice outside, and not many people were out and about. He considered his options.

He sighed. "Have him home by one. And drive carefully."

Tooru beamed. He saluted. "Yessir."

A few days after he stormed Iwaizumi-san's office, Tooru fixed his new-old car, making sure it wouldn't break down on the day of the date. He'd had help from the guy across the street, Aone.

Tooru was under the hood, Aone in the driver's seat. "Start the engine," Tooru said.

Aone turned the key, but nothing happened. Under the hood, Tooru changed something. "Again." Aone tried the engine again. Still no go. Tooru changed something else. "One more time," he said.

Aone tried one more time. The engine roared, then died, then amazingly started again. It was running now. Landon high-  
fived Aone, then saw an old station wagon turn in.

Tooru thanked Aone, who nodded and wordlessly walked away.

The principal stepped out of his car, a bunch of papers in his hands. He gave one of them to Tooru. "Your grades for fall semester," he said. "They're good."

"You came here to give me my report card?" Tooru said incredulously, skimming over his report card. He'd always had good, average grades, enough so he wouldn't get kicked out of the team, but the ones in this report card were exceptionally high. "Well, I wouldn't be surprised; I am good in all aspects, of course."

The principal rolled his eyes. "You can get into a good college with grades like these, even without a volleyball scholarship," he said. "I'll gladly write you a recommendation letter, should you ask for it."

"Thank you," Tooru said genuinely.

"You're welcome."

_**#** _

Contrary to popular belief, Oikawa Tooru was a shitty dresser. This was to be expected, as he usually only wore three things: his school uniform, jersey, and anything with a leather jacket and jeans. Sometimes, though, he could manage a nice fit or two that didn't involve any of the three mentioned.

Tooru stared at his reflection. It was already New Year's Eve, and today was his and Hajime's date. He grinned excitedly and dressed with care. He wore a dark brown aviator jacket over a black turtleneck, black jeans and a pair of white Air Max 90s. He made sure his hair was perfect, before putting on cologne and heading downstairs.

He pocketed his phone and wallet and walked out the door to the Iwaizumi house. He rang the doorbell, and Iwaizumi-san greeted him.

"Don't forget what you promised," Iwaizumi-san said, to which Tooru nodded.

"You look nice."

Hajime was wearing a brown coat over a black hoodie over a black shirt. The coat was unbuttoned, and the hoodie was unzipped. His hair was as spiky as usual, and his jeans were black. He finished off his outfit with a pair of black Mishansha snow boots.

"I do, don't I?" Tooru said. "Iwa-chan finally admits to being enticed by my irresistible charm."

"Insufferable, more like," Hajime said with a roll of his eyes. He turned to his dad and gave him a wave as they walked out the door. "I'll be back soon."

"You better be."

Tooru drove the two of them to a seafood joint on the waterfront. He chose this because it suited them. Quaint, not fancy. Appropriate for dates, but not too high maintenance.

Twinkle lights illuminated Hajime's face. "I can't believe you asked my father's permission."

"I wanted it to be a date," Tooru answered.

Hajime watched Tooru with a smile. "Is there a rush?" he asked when he noticed Tooru wolfing down his food.

"I have to get you home by one."

"It's only 7:30," said Hajime, furrowing his brows.

Tooru laughed at the sight. He reached out and smoothed Hajime's forehead. "You're always doing that," he teased. "No wonder you have so many wrinkles, Iwa-chan."

Hajime's eyebrows furrower even more. "I do not have wrinkles."

"You're doing it again."

"Because you pissing me off."

"You're so fun to tease," Tooru said with a laugh. "Anyway, we're going somewhere. And no, I didn't ask your father."

"Why do I put up with you?"

"Because you like me," Tooru said smugly. Then, less confident this time, "Right?"

Hajime smiled.

When they finished, they hit the road once more. Wind rushing in their ears, lo-fi music playing from his phone connected to his car, Hajime in the passenger seat; Tooru thought it couldn't get any better than this.

Tooru steered the car into a parking lot for a miniature golf course with a castle-shaped video arcade — a family entertainment center.

"Before we do this," Tooru started.

"We're doing something…?"

Tooru held up his finger. "Let me finish, Iwa-chan. Before we do this, I just want to say that a good life's gotta be about more than achieving stuff — like on your list. And like my volleyball. I realize that now. It's about working with what you already have, right now, at your fingertips. You know, spontaneously."

"Where are you going with this?" Hajime asked.

"That little bit of larceny in your heart."

"Excuse me?"

Tooru grinned. "Fun."

They first tried the batting cage. Hajime was inside the cage with a helmet on, and a machine tossed balls toward him. Tooru coached him from outside.

"Swing, Iwa-chan! Keep your bat parallel to the ground," he said. "Follow through. Follow through!"

Hajime was laughing too hard to hit anything,and the balls kept coming. He ducked out of the way and grasped the  
fence and leaned in. Tooru leaned in on his side. They'd be embracing if the fence weren't there.

Behind them, kids from their school looked at them like they were animals at a circus, giggling, whispering among themselves.

Tooru looked over at them. "Let's go," he said to Hajime.

On the highway, Tooru's car roared down the asphalt. A sign for the approaching city of Kawasaki whipped by. Music and laughter rang in Tooru' ears. His chest felt light and at ease, singing with every bout of laughter Tooru let out. Yasashisa by Fujii Kaze played.

"I learned something new today," Tooru informed Hajime. "The cells in our bodies are always changing, right? So in six or seven years all your cells have changed. You could be like a completely new person from the inside out."

"Is that what's happening to you, only faster?" Hajime said.

Tooru grinned and pulled the car over. He looked out. There was nobody but them on the country road. "Get out. Come on." He leaped out, leaving the headlights on.

Hajime, confused, followed him outside.

Tooru took Hajime's hand and pulls him toward some invisible place.

Hajime asked, "Where— what— are we—?

Tooru kept tugging him, and he just followed, curious where Tooru was going with this. "Stand right here," Tooru said.

"Where?"

Tooru leaned down and lifted one of Hajime's feet a foot from the other. He noticed a large bruise on Hajime's leg, when he accidentally brushed Hajime's pants up while moving the leg.

Hajime shook foot so the pant leg would come down. "You're acting like a crazy person."

"You're on both Tokyo and Kawasaki," Tooru said proudly. "You're in two places at once."

Hajime, surprised, only beamed, at a loss for words.

Tooru went back to his car and opened the trunk. He produced a volleyball and spun it on his finger. "Let's play," he said to Hajime.

"I don't know how," Hajime said.

"I'l teach you," Tooru assured him. "It's easy. Come on, I'll teach you how to cartwheel next! It took me a week to learn, but I'm sure you'll get it right away."

_**#** _

They sat on the sands of the Kawasaki beach, shoulder to shoulder. The night was starry, and the moon was bright, shining its light on the glimmering silver water. In the distance, fireworks boomed like it was made for them.

"It's places like this that make me certain there's a God," Hajime said suddenly.

Tooru looked at him, surprised. "You're sometimes not sure?"

"I'm sure," Hajime said assuredly. He closed his eyes and hung his head, resting the weight on his own shoulders. "Pretty sure."

The wind blew then and nipped at Tooru's skin. He dropped his body so his back laid flat on the sand. He rested his head on his arm.

Hajime did the same. "It's like the wind," he said, "I can't see it but I feel it."

Tooru closed his eyes, feeling the wind. He wondered what it would be like to be Hajime, believing in things he never believed in. Like himself and God. He opened his eyes. "We can measure wind."

"Uncertainty makes you uncomfortable," Hajime observed.

"What do you actually know with religion?" Tooru asked, angling his head so he faced Hajime.

Hajime felt the movement so he, too, turned to face Tooru. "Wonder. Beauty. Joy." Hajime paused, then, in a voice barely above a whisper, "Love." He cleared his throat. "My mother told me God is love, so when you're feeling love, you're feeling God. I think talking about these things threatens their very beauty and mystery."

Tooru touched Hajime's hair with the hand he wasn't lying on. "I might kiss you," he said.

"I might do it wrong," Hajime said.

"Not possible." Tooru propped himself up with his elbow so he towered over Hajime. Tooru touched Hajime's neck, his cheek, his mouth, and Hajime found himself moving closer to Tooru's body.

Then Tooru leaned in and kissed him, and the world shifted. Tooru thought that if God was real, then perhaps this was heaven.

Hajime tasted like mint toothpaste and salty ocean breeze. His lips were soft and moved against Tooru's beautifully. When they pulled away, Tooru rested his forehead on Hajime's.

"I love you, Iwa-chan," he said softly, like saying it out loud would make it lose its meaning, the same way talking about the mysteries of God would make it less beautiful.

Hajime smiled, but he looked sad. He rested his back on the sand once more and didn't say a word.

"Now's when you say something," Tooru said gently.

"I can't," Hajime hissed. He put an arm over his eyes. "I— I can't. I'm sorry."

Tooru softly pried his arm away, and Hajime looked back at him, eyes shining. "It's okay," Tooru said.

Hajime sat up and cupped Tooru's cheek with his palm, and they kissed again, on the sands of the Kawasaki beach, under the stars Tooru once thought were poison, away from the rest of the world so no one but them could see. Not even God.

_**#** _

Tooru parked the car on the driveway to his house. He turned off the engine and looked at Hajime. "We're here," he said, "I'll walk you to your house." He made the move to open the car door on his side.

"Oikawa."

Tooru stopped. He faced Hajime. "Hmm?"

"Earlier," Hajime started slowly, "I couldn't… I couldn't say it back." He licked his lips, and Tooru followed the movement with his eyes. "I know you said it was okay, but I just wanted you to know that... you make me feel…"

"Loved?" Tooru said hopefully.

Hajime smiled. "That. And less strange." A tear ran down his cheek, and he wiped it away briskly with the back of his hand. "Let's go," he said, stepping out of the car.

Tooru did the same. He followed Hajime up the steps. The lights in the living room were on. Through the windows, they could see Hajime's father taking down the Christmas tree.

"Be very quiet,"

Tooru pulled Hajime to him and kissed him. The front door opened. Iwaizumi-san was standing before them.

"Hello, Oikawa."

Tooru and Hajime separated, but Tooru kept an arm over Hajime's shoulder. "Good evening, Iwaizumi-san. Well, morning, technically."

Iwaizumi-san studied the two young people, but they paid him no mind. Tooru whispered to Hajime, "Happy New Year." He kissed the top of Hajime's head and went to his own house next door.

Hajime walked by his father, not saying anything, but feeling restless eyes on his back, watching the way he smiled in contentment as he headed up the stairs.

_**#** _

When Tooru and Hajime arrived at Tooru's locker the moment the winter break was over, they were shocked to see his locker kicked in. "Assholes," Tooru said. "This happen to you?"

"Twice a year," Hajime said. He pursed his lips then, to Tooru's surprise, he began kicking in every locker in the row. "There," he said. "Now they all match."

Tooru laughed. "Why don't we ditch school today?"

Hajime pondered on it. "Alright," he said finally. "We won't be doing much today, anyway. Where to?"

"Away from here."

Tooru led Jamie up, round and round, to the top of a tall steel fire tower a few hours later, exiting the staircase to a small 360 degree overlook.

Hajime gaped at the view. "How did you know this place?"

"Before the divorce," Tooru said. "My father used to take me here. Fire spotting was his summer job."

They looked off to the curve of the horizon, where the sea met the sky. "From here he proved to me the earth isn't flat," he said. "On rainy days, we'd be above the clouds.

"What would you do up here?" Hajime asked.

"Look. Talk," Tooru said. "Not talk." He pulled a deck of cards from his jacket pocket. They sat and he started to shuffle. Needless to say, he wasn't very good at it.

Hajime laughed and took the deck. He shuffled it like a card shark.

_**#** _

Hajime was already waiting when Tooru's car pulled up. Tooru got out, killing the car's engine behind him and shouldering his backpack. He shut the door and walked over to Hajime pulling him in for a kiss, his hand om the circle of Hajime's back.

"What'd you tell your father?" Tooru asked when they pulled away.

"The truth," Hajime said. "I just left you out of it." He pushed himself away from Tooru's embrace and crawled under the barbed wire fence of the cemetery, where they sneaked in last time.

Tooru followed.

They reached the storage shed where Hajime collected and fitted the pieces of his telescope together.

"When did you build this?" Tooru asked.

"I was twelve," Hajime answered. "It's not that complicated," he added, when Tooru shook his head, amazed. "It's an alt-azimuth design with one parabolic mirror and one secondary flat one."

"Where's the one you're building?" Tooru asked.

"In my back yard," Hajime admitted, embarrassed. "I lied before. It's hardly started. But when it's done, it will have twice the power of this one." He finished putting together the parts. "Anyway, what do you want to see?"

"Mars," Tooru said.

"Mars doesn't rise until 2:30 A.M.," Hajime told him.

Tooru grinned and opened his backpack, pulling out the contents. "A thermos of hot coffee. A blanket. Socks."

"You planned this?" Hajime said, amused.

"Hoped for it." Tooru shrugged.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" Hajime asked, trying to stifle his laugh.

"No. Why? Are you seducible?" Tooru goaded.

"No." Hajime stuck his tongue out.

"That's what I thought." Tooru reached back into his backpack and pulled out another  
blanket. "Ergo, a second blanket. One for me, one for you." He handed the other to Hajime.

Hajime took it with a laugh. "Ergo?" he mocked.

Tooru pouted. "Iwa-chan, you're mean," he said, slightly embarrassed. "What about your father? Won't he look for you?"

"I'm always home by midnight and he's always asleep," said Hajime. He placed his eye on the eyepiece, taking turns with Tooru to look at the heavens through the telescope.

"You're beautiful, you know that?" Tooru said sudenly. "Sometimes I even think that I don't deserve you."

Hajime looked at him but didn't say anything.

Tooru started to ramble. Because Hajime really was God's design, and Tooru didn't want to ruin it. Him, Oikawa Tooru, a delinquent if he weren't an athlete, ignorant to the world and had tunnel vision that led to his demise. Him, Oikawa Tooru, who couldn't even bring his team to nationals, all because he pushed himself too hard in desperation of victory and brought his team with him when he fell. And Hajime was this intricate sculpture that God Himself took centuries to craft since His creation of the world. He had perfected this man, carved him so his skin was smooth and his face was well-structured and his brain as the best of the best and he could do no wrong. Oikawa couldn't bring himself to ruin any of that.

"Oikawa," Hajime said finally after a long pause. He dragged Tooru's name in his mouth, like a whining child, but less annoying and more endearing. Tooru found it cute. "We're all God's design. We were all crafted by Him, and we are all perfect.We have our flaws, but you can't let them pull you down. Your excessive working was toxic, but it wasn't your fault you lost. Volleyball's a team sport, isn't it? A team's loss in not an individual's fault. And don't say that you don't deserve me. Don't you dare. You've done more for me than anyone else. Except maybe my father. And God. Obviously."

Tooru wiped a tear from his cheek. "Yeah, okay," he said, voice cracking. He cleared his throat and changed the subject. "Where's Pluto?" Tooru asked, not meeting Hajime's eye.

"In Virgo, but it's about 1000 times too faint to see," Hajime mumbled. He had a worried glint in his eyes, but it disappeared from Tooru's view when Hajime pressed his eye against the glass.

"What's the best thing I can see tonight?" Tooru asked.

Hajime pulled away from the telescope to think about it. Then he grinned playfully and said, "Me."

"That's true," Tooru agreed, laughing, sudden outburst already tucked in the compartment he kept away from the eyes of others. "But only because I don't have a mirror to look at myself with."

"You're so conceited."

"I think the proper term is confident," Tooru said, and Hajime drew him close.

"Yeah, right," Hajime mumbled against his lips.

They had kissed a couple of times before already, but his skin still gets goosebumps when their lips touch. His hands still tremble after and his heart still sighs, like the world does after a terrifying storm.

Hajime was the first to pull away. "The second best thing is Jupiter." He swiveled the telescope into position for Jupiter and  
stepped aside so Tooru can look.

Tooru didn't, however, and instead picked up the flashlight, pulling a diagram from his pocket. "Can you locate XXI5639I?"

"Sure." She took the diagram, studied it, and adjusted the scope. "Here," she said. "Why am I looking at this star?"

"Because I had it named for you," Tooru said. "I know it's not an official designation—"

Hajime didn't let him finish. He couldn't have been happier. He reached for Tooru's hand and grinned. "It's wonderful," he said excitedly. "I love you."

The words fell like a sudden hush. Like all the noise of the world died on Hajime's lips. They both looked at each other, and Tooru felt blood rush to his head. It's the first time he had heard it.

Hajime pulled Tooru into his arms. In the shadows, Hajime looked even more ethereal. His eyes were brighter than any supernova, a thousand dying stars bursting to pure light and rising from the ashes of the graveyard to be birthed as the sun. His skin glowed like moonlace, a warm blue hum emanating from his body and spreading to Tooru's.

It made Tooru's heart ache when he stared into Hajime's soul. Hajime looked at him like he had the world before him, and their lips found each other once more.

It was a delicate waltz, the way their mouths met in a moment of hurried passion. A stark contrast to the way the felt: a slow, deep osculation as opposed to the intense and needy racing in their chests.

Tooru's mind went a mile a minute, and he felt like his insides were running around, rearranging himself inside his body. He supposed it was a good thing, as the world only consisted of him, Hajime, and his raging inferno of a heart.

Hajime pulled away before Tooru could move to his neck.

"Okay," he said, respecting Hajime's boundaries. "I'm stopping."

They pushed their backs against a tombstone, sitting cross-legged on the cemetery dirt, sides touching each other the same way they did so many nights ago.

"What's number one?" Tooru's head was on Hajime's shoulder.

"Don't laugh."

"I won't."

Hajime sighed. "In April... when the dogwoods and wisteria are blooming," he said, "get married."

_**#** _

Cynthia was sitting at the table, drinking  
coffee, when Tooru came home at five in the morning. "A late night or an early morning?"

"Late night."

"Were you with Hajime-kun?"

"Yeah."

"I was cleaning yesterday," his mom began. "I found this." She pulled Tooru's Life List from her pocket. Tooru was horrified when she began to read it. "Scuba dive. Touch a moon rock. Learn to read Egyptian hieroglyphs. Go to med school? He talking to you 'bout this stuff?"

Tooru didn't answer, so she put the list on the table and smoothed it, wondering how to gently discourage her son.

"Honey, some of this is… farfetched," she said carefully. "You take after me. People skills and common sense. Good dependable qualities. Your volleyball is the only thing you've got going for you."

That pained Tooru to hear. Wasn't it enough that he had to keep pressuring himself to be the best in his sport? Did his mom have to join in too? And what was this about volleyball being the only thing he can do?

"I could take after Dad, too," he said out of spite, but as the words escaped his lips, he realized he meant it.

"You do," she sighed. "You're handsome and charming."

"I meant that he's a doctor."

She shook her head. "That's, what, eight years of school and training, all after college. And all that doesn't necessarily make you a better human being."

"I could do it if I tried," Tooru argued. "I'm at my best with volleyball, but it's not the only thing I'm good at. Even the principal thinks so."

"That'd be something," she said, but not really listening. "Look, I don't want to discourage you. I just want you to be practical and realistic. Alright, say you go to college then to med school, that's good. But if it doesn't happen, grab for something within reach. There's loads of scouts that want to recruit you in their team. You could even go pro without having to go to college. Life's tough enough without causing yourself disappointment—"

"Whatever my life is," Tooru said, his voice raising, pissed, "I'm going to be fucking sure I'm never disappointed."

"Son, disappointment isn't something anyone plans for," she said honestly, talking over Tooru. Then she caught herself and lowered her voice. "It catches you by surprise."

They were quiet for a few moments, both feeling sorry to have raised their  
voices.

"Have I told you how proud I am of you?" she said.

"That's great, mom," said Tooru. "But what I want for me is to be proud of me. I've dedicated my life to volleyball, and all I got was a bad knee in return. I didn't even get to nationals even though I tried so hard. It just isn't fair. Now that I've let some of that obsession go, all I want is for you to support me."

_**#** _

Tooru was eating dinner with Hajime and Iwaizumi-san. Tooru's eyes were solely focused on his plate, and Hajime's went from Tooru to his father then back to Tooru again. The Victorian portraits seemed to bore holes on Tooru's back. There was silence, then:

"Oikawa," Iwaizumi-san said. "You're not the quiet type."

Tooru shook his head, finally tearing his eyes away from his food to look at Iwaizumi-san.

"So talk to us about something."

Tooru stopped eating, dropping his chopsticks. He put his hands on his thighs. "Like what, sir?"

"How about your family?" Iwaizumi-san said. "How's your mother coping with the… divorce? We haven't been talking much; she always looked busy or tired. How do you — the two of you — get by?"

"Materially or spiritually?" Tooru asked.

Iwaizumi-san looked surprised. "Either," he said, shaking his head. "Both."

"I don't know," he said. "We used to try to believe in each other." His eyes met Iwaizumi-san's, and he could feel the respect that Hajime's father grudgingly gave him.

After dinner, Tooru and Hajime went to the yard so Hajime could show Tooru the junk pile that will become his newer, larger telescope. They were laughing, jostling each other. Comfortable. Happy.

Hajime talked about how excited he was to build it, to see the universe much better. He talked about his dreams, and how there was still so much in his Life List that he wanted to do.

Tooru assured him that he would be able to. "I'll be right here with you," he said, reaching out to ruffle Hajime's hair.

"I know."

When Tooru finally bid them goodbye and started off to his own house, Hajime went in his to help his father with the chores.

"You and the Oikawa boy," his father said. "Want to catch me up on recent developments?"

"You're asking if we're involved?" Hahime asked straightforwardly.

His father shook his head. "I'm asking how much."

"Otousan—"

"It's time to tell him," he said. "It would be the right thing to do."

Hajime turned to him, upset. "Maybe. But that's not the only reason." His anger was spilling out now, coursing through his veins like a wildfire. His hands shook when he talked. "You think if I tell, he'll disappear and that's what you want! Me all to yourself!"

"No," his father said, stung. "I want what's best for you."

"This — him — Oikawa — is what's best for me!" Hajime said, voice raising but not enough for the sound to escape the prison of their house. The Victorian portraits whose eyes always followed him seemed to surround him, sucking him in so he would revert back to his old, closed off self.

"You're sure?" his father pressed. "You're sure you can trust him? That he's what's best for you?" He was playing to Hajime's old insecurities, poking the holes in Hajime's armor so he could touch the flesh. "Isn't it better for him to know?"

Their eyes met, and Hajime knew he was right.

_**#** _

Due to Tooru's constant pestering, Hajime finally agreed to watch that new alien movie that just came out with him. ( _Please, Iwa-chan, please,_ Tooru kept saying, so Hajime begrudgingly agreed just to shut him up.)

"What did you think?" Tooru asked excitedly as they sat on the swings of the playground near their houses after the movie. Tooru remembered when Hajime walked up to him here after Tooru had been discharged at the hospital for his injured knee. Tooru had been sitting on the same swing, too.

"It was better than I expected," Hajime admitted. "Although I'd still take a Godzilla movie any day."

Tooru laughed. "Who would have thought that Iwa-chan was a Godzilla nerd?"

"And who would have thought that popular boy Oikawa-I'm-so-cool-Tooru was a closeted alien geek?" Hajime retorted.

"Well, I'm not so popular now," Tooru said lightly, and Hajime immediately felt bad, "but everyone has their own secrets, Iwa-chan!"

"Yeah," Hajime said seriously, voice quiet and low. "Everyone."

Tooru noticed his tone. He turned to face Hajime. "Something you wanna tell me?"

Hajime took a deep breath. "I'm not going to college."

Tooru tilted his head questioningly. "Why? You gonna take a gap year? Join the Japanese Overseas Cooperation Volunteers?"

Hajime shook his head. "I'm sick."

"Oh!" Tooru exclaimed, trying to take Hajime's arm to pull him up. "Let's get you home, then. Sorry for making you come with—"

Hajime pushed Tooru's hand away. "No, Oikawa. I'm sick. With leukemia." He inhaled sharply. I found out two years ago. And now I'm not responding to treatment anymore."

And it all made sense: how Hajime, with his ugly brown sweater and his hardbound books and his home-made telescope, shut out other people in his world; how Hajime didn't care about what others thought about him or did to him — because really, why would he when he's got so much more to worry about? — and how Iwaizumi-san almost didn't want to let Hajime out of his sight, fiercely caring for his son that would soon be long gone.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Tooru's voice sounded so pained. His face crumpled in anguish. He felt the tears start to form in his eyes.

Hajime closed his eyes. "The doctors said to do everything the same as long as possible," he said. "I didn't want anyone being weird around me."

"Even me?" Tooru's voice was raised to a shout now, and Hajime winced at how it cracked. "Even me, Iwa-chan?"

Hajime opened his eyes and turned to face Tooru. His eyes were glistening with liquid, and the afternoon sun was setting behind him. The shadows in his face made it hard for Tooru to see the way he bit his lips they would stop trembling and the way he gripped at his thigh so his legs wouldn't give out. "Especially you."

But he couldn't hide the tremor in his voice. And Tooru heard it.

"God gives me an illness." Hajime laughed bitterly. "Then He gives me hope; He gives me you." He looked away. "It's all just a cruel fucking joke."

"You once said God always had a plan right?" Tooru said. He was shaking, and he couldn't stop. He was an earthquake within an earthquake; quivering mouth that spilled pained howls compressed into a whisper, wobbling hands that rivaled that of a shivering child. "What kind of a fucking plan is this?"

"My birth was a cataclysm, I think," Hajime said. "The moment before catastrophe. Ever since I was born I always felt like nothing was going right for me. We were struggling financially before my dad became a minister, and we found God. Then this kid next door wouldn't talk to me when my parents weren't around and refused to play with me so I did it alone. I didn't get along with anyone back then, and I still don't until now. Then my mom died, and everyone at school likes to pick on me for some reason. And now I have this goddamned cancer that my body refuses to recover from."

To Tooru's surprise, Hajime laughed. "When you came around, I thought everything was alright with the world. I thought you were a prick, but you were this… constant, you know? Even when we fought I always felt like you were always around. Maybe it had something to do with us being next door neighbors."

"I'm not letting you die," Tooru said.

Hajime smiled sadly. He shook his head. "It's not about what you want, Oikawa. Believe me, I know."

"How long do you have?"

"Two, three months," Hajime said. "Maybe less, maybe more."

"So you're giving up?"

"The doctors have. My father and I… we're still praying for a miracle."

"Praying," Tooru repeated spitefully, disdain laced his voice like a python would its victim. "If there's a God, how could he let this happen? To you, no less!"

Hajime sighed, like he had expected Tooru's reaction. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tooru beat him to it.

"Sorry," Tooru mumbled. "I don't have the right… to get angry at you, when you're the one who's… who has…"

"Cancer," Hajime finished for him. "It's okay; you can say it."

"I don't want to," said Tooru, desperate. "Saying it just makes it feel more real."

"It doesn't matter if it doesn't feel real to you, because it is, Oikawa. Nothing will change that."

"Can you call me Tooru, Iwa-chan?"

Hajime looked at him, a sad smile still lingering on his face. "Okay," he said. "Tooru."

_**#** _

There was no moon. An awful metaphor that sang all the right notes in Tooru's song. A horrible juxtaposition: Tooru's silhouette against the dim night sky illuminated by a couple of stars, like a painting drawn on canvas by invisible hands that apparently carved through time and space to bless His people with His plans. A painting that was deprived of light and happiness. A painting where only the dark remained and reigned. It would have been beautiful if it wasn't the epitome of sorrow and pain.

Only a handful of cars were around at this time as Tooru's car zipped down the road. He glanced at his phone's GPS and sighed. He winded his car through the city streets and entered a residential neighborhood.

Mansions and big lawns; Tooru used to wish for a life like that. Now he only wished for the simple things, like seeing Hajime recover from his cancer. Tooru leaned forward to read a street sign, face tear-streaked. He flicked his headlights to bright, then low again. He turned left.

He pulled over in front of a large new house built with the neoclassical style of the American colonial period. Tooru climbed out, slammed his car door shut and stood in the street.

Staring at his father's house, numb and dazed, he headed up a flagstone path for the front door. He rang the doorbell, then banged on the heavy wooden door, desperate, impatient.

"Oikawa-sensei!" he yelled, not caring if anyone else could hear. "Oikawa! Otousan! Please! I have to talk to you!" His voice cracked at the last word grief-stricken and anguished. He felt like his heart would burst at any minute.

He continued to knock. If he could, he would bust the door open. "Open the door!" he yelled. "Please!"

He knocked a few more times, then stopped with a huff, wiping his tears away with his arm. He backed away from the house and angrily kicked over a decorative planter.

He was halfway to his car when his father opened the door and called out to him. "Tooru!" he said. "Tooru!"

Tooru turned around. His father stood under the overhang of his front porch in a blue silk robe that stopped below his knees. Tooru finally broke down, sobbing. Hurriedly, his father went to him and hugged him.

"You have to save him!" Tooru cried. "You have to! Please…"

"Who?" his father asked. "Who is it, Tooru? Is your mom alright?"

"It's Iwa-chan," he gasped. "He has cancer. You have to come look at him! Right now!

His father handled it like a true professional. "Tooru," he said calmly, "it's the middle of the night—"

"I don't give a shit what time it is!" Tooru said angrily. He pulled away. His eyes were red and tearful, cheeks wet, hair messy.

"Tooru, I'm a cardiologist, not an oncologist."

"Well, you're a doctor, aren't you?" he said. He covered his face with his jacket as he wentbti the driver's side of his car. "Never mind," he said and entered his car.

His father said something before he drove off, but he never heard what it was.

Tooru arrived home by down, quietly shutting the back door. Exhausted, he started making coffee. As the water boiled, he splashed water onto his face, watching as the droplets fell to the sink. He was so deep in thought, he didn't hear his mother come down.

"Your father called," she said.

Tooru jumped a bit but didn't respond.

"Iwaizumi's a patient at his hospital. He's having a colleague look at his chart this morning." She paused. "I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"I didn't know either."

Later that day laid on his bed in the dark. He had looked out his window to see if Hajime was awake but every curtain in the Iwaizumi household had been closed, so Tooru did the same to his.

His phone rang in his hand but he didn't answer, didn't even bother to move and see who it was. It rang five times before stopping. A minute later his mom came and told him it was his father.

He picked it up the next time it rang. His father greeted him, and he zoned after his father said, "There's nothing I can do."

"Tooru?" his father called. "Please, I'm really sorry but—"

"Leave me alone." He hung up right before his mother sat beside him, pained to see his suffering. "It's the only thing I've ever asked him! If he can't… if he can't do that, why do I still call him my father?"

Tooru stood up. "I'm going over to Iwa-chan's."

His mother didn't stop him.

Hajime was behind the door when he knocked. Tooru followed him to his bedroom. Tooru had been up here when he was a kid and there wasn't much of a difference. A couple of Godzilla posters lined the grey walls. A wooden bookshelf was filled with books that were arranged by the color of their spines. Beside the shelf was a mahogany desk with papers, books pens and an image of Jesus on a cross.

"I should have told you sooner," Hajime said.

Tooru looked guilty. He bit his lip. "I made you do too many things, kept you up all night—"

"Stop," Hajime said. "Don't you dare apologize for that, Tooru, or I will punch you. The drugs just stopped working. If anything, doing things I love kept me healthy longer."

Tooru. Hajime remembered.

"Are you frightened?" Tooru asked quietly.

"All the time," said Hajime. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he seemed to age a hundred years when he said that. Hajime was tired. Tooru feared that he was tired of living. "I feel like I have no one."

Not even God. An unspoken curse, like Hajime's last ditch effort to summon enough hatred to throw at his God. Hajime didn't say those words, but it hung in the air like thick humidity. It made Tooru's skin crawl.

Tooru pulled Hajime in. "You have me," he murmured, lips brushing against Hajime's hair. "You'll always have me."

"Help me live until I die?" Hajime asked, almost pleading. There was a desperate undertone in his words. His time was coming, and there was nothing he could do about it.

"I will, Iwa-chan." He kissed Hajime's forehead. "I will."

_**#** _

It angered Tooru how the world still spun the next day, how everyone had the audacity to go about their day like Hajime wasn't dying. There were still Saturdays. There were still tutoring sessions. There was still school.

How utterly cruel.

Tooru sat with Miyanoshita; Hajime at the next table with his student. He looked painfully pale, and it ached Tooru to see him like that. The signs of his sickness began to become awfully omnipresent. Tooru used to look at Hajime and not think he was dying. He used to not notice the dark circles under Hajime's eyes or the paleness of his lips or the bruise on his leg. He used to be unaware of the way Hajime sighed to himself a lot or how Hajime always looked sad and wistful and afraid.

Tooru catched his eye. They both  
smile, a little sadly, then turn back to their students.

Tooru drives them home from Seijoh afterwards. There was no music this time. No laughter ringing in Tooru's ears.

"You hungry?" Tooru asked, side eyeing Hajime.

"No."

"Anything you want?"

"Nothing."

It tortured him to see Hajime like this, so listless and numb. So different from the quiet but active boy who wore old, atrocious sweaters because he was cold and read all those books because no one talked to him.

Tooru reached into a cooler on the floor of the back seat. "Tea? Apple? Yogurt? You like yogurt."

"I used to like yogurt." Hajime was facing the window, eyes intense but unseeing.

Tooru placed a red heart-shaped box on Hajime's lap. "Sorry," he said apologetically, turning his eyes back to the road. "Not very original. Happy Valentine's day. That's home-made. Had to ask my mom for help."

He grinned, but Hajime looked crestfallen. "I didn't even think about it."

Tooru opened the box, broke off a piece from the chocolate and popped it into his mouth. He grinned. "There, Iwa-chan," he said. "You gave me a chocolate."

Hajime didn't smile.

_**#** _

Tooru and Hajime were looking at stars backs against a tombstone, the telescope beside them, Tooru snuggled against Hajime's chest. "What are you thinking?" he said.

"That I want you to take me home," Hajime said honestly.

"Now? But we just—"

"I don't want to come here anymore, Tooru," Hajime cut him off. "It hurts." He broke free from Tooru and began taking the telescope apart. There it was again; his lifeless, robotic movements.

Tooru hated seeing him like that, so he looked away.

They stopped in front of the cemetery gate after a few minutes of walking. Hajime glanced at the opening in the barbed wire fence beside it, then looked at the high fence wearily.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He inserted it into the lock to open it. When the door swung open, Tooru gaped at it.

"You have a key?"

"Yeah. I just never needed it," he said. "Will you talk to my father?"

"I've talked to your father," Tooru said, puzzled.

"No, I mean." Hajime looked annoyed that he had to explain it. "Talk to him with me. I need to tell the two of you something."

"What is it?"

"You'll know."

When they got home, Hajime let him and called Iwaizumi-san so they could talk.

"What is this about, Hajime?" Iwaizumi-san asked.

"I'll be honest," Tooru said before Hajime could speak. "I don't know if I can pray, but I can do just about anything else. Whatever you need, whatever Iwa-chan needs, I'm here. I could start by driving him to school—"

"I'm not going back to school," Hajime interrupted. "That's what I was gonna tell you both. You can tell anyone you want. I don't care anymore." He didn't wait for a reply and went up to his room.

Tooru and Iwaizumi-san's eyes met, then looked away, uncomfortable.

That didn't sound like Hajime. It sounded like someone who wanted to die.

_**#** _

It was a controversy how Tooru went to school looking haggard and not at all upholding the perfect image he still liked to keep. His hair was a mess and his eyes were dark as he cleaned out Hajime's locker.

All around him, he could hear whispering and murmurs. He wasn't surprised that practically everyone in the schoolcknew about Hajime; news traveled fast in Aoba Johsai. What surprised him was the looks of sympathy he got. Some of the students smiled sadly at him. Some even offered to help. He ignored them all.

Tooru pulled the sweater he'd given to Hajime from the locker. He stared at it, feeling the fabric with his hands. A day will come where he won't get to see Hajime where this anymore.

And that day was fast approaching, barely sparing Tooru a few seconds to catch his breath.

"Hey, Oikawa." Mattsun and Makki were beside him. He didn't even notice. "We heard about Iwaizumi."

"Don't you even dare to say shit about him," Tooru said.

"No, no," Makki said, raising his hands. "We're sorry. Really. We feel terrible."

"It's too late," Tooru said, shutting Hajime's locker shut. He grazed the locker door eith his thumb then turned back to Makki and Mattsun. "And it's not enough either. But I used to be like you, I didn't forget, and now here I am. Iwa-chan gave me a second chance." He paused. "He gave me a lot of things."

He patted them on their backs and pushed past them, heading towards the principal's office with Hajime's things. "Good morning," he said. "Sensei, I need to be excused from all school activities—"

"You're excused."

Tooru bowed and turned for the door.

The rest of the day blurred and only shifted into focus when he arrived at Hajime's doorstep. Without knocking, he went in and up the stairs to Hajime's room, where he put away Hajime's school stuff.

Hajime had torn down his Godzilla posters so now his walls were bare. He'd tidied his desk so only the crucifix remained. He reached into the bag Tooru had used to put his stuff in and pulled out the sweater, tugging it over his head. "Yesterday I felt sick, horrible," he said. "Today I feel like riding my bike. Or dancing."

Tooru grinned. "So let's dance."

He grabbed his phone and put on some waltz music. "You know how to waltz?"

Hajime laughed. "I was just going to fake it."

"How coincidental!" Tooru exclaimed. "I always fake it."

"You're so full of shit," Hajime said, but he was smiling.

"You love me," Tooru said, smiling when Hajime leaned to him. He was taller, so he let Hajime rest his head on his shoulder.

"I'm glad you fell in love with me, Tooru," Hajime said. "I know I told you not to, but I'm glad you did."

"Me too."

They swayed to the music, the attempted waltz turning into a slow dance. It suddenly hit Tooru that maybe this was the last time he'd ever feel someone fit so perfectly in his arms, the last time he'd get to dance like this because then it would be too painful, the last time he'd ever have someone listen to his heartbeat with soft music in the background.

"Don't cry," Hajime whispered as if he knew.

And he did. Tooru was sure he did, because Hajime always knew Tooru, even when he didn't know himself.

He felt Hajime's grip on him loosen, and he knew Hajime was suddenly too exhausted to carry his own weight. He guided Hajime back to his bed and tucked him in, kissing his forehead.

"How you doing?" Tooru asked, sitting on the bed beside him to stroke his hair.

"Tired," Hajime croaked. "Can you hold me?"

"Okay, Iwa-chan," Tooru said. He joined Hajime under the covers, and Hajime snuggled closer to him. He stroked Hajime's hair until they both fell asleep.

_**#** _

Time passed quickly, and it was already March. Not a day went by without Tooru looking more and more ready to break by the second. Hajime wasn't any better.

Tooru brought his car over to the cemetery and used the key he borrowed from Hajime to open the rear gate. He drove the car further in, as close as he can get to the storage shed so he wouldn't have to walk far.

He started bringing the parts of Hajime's old telescope and putting them in the trunk of his car. The cemetery was silent, even during the day, and there was no one there but him and the dead.

He walked to and from the storage shed, carrying parts and dumping them in his car like a machine. His head was empty, and he moved like it was ingrained in his muscle memory.

The sound of gravel flying and music blasting jolted him awake. Makki and Mattsun were driving up in Makki's pickup.

Tooru freezed, not sure what to expect. He watched them as they shut the vehicle's engine and hopped off, walking over to where Tooru stood.

"Hey," Makki said.

"Hey," Tooru said.

"Your mom told us we'd find you here," Mattsun informed him.

Tooru hummed, still wondering what they wanted.

Without another word, Mattsun walked to Tooru's car, lifted the heaviest telescope part and carried it to the back part of the pickup.

Makki followed.

After gathering the parts Tooru asked the two to drop the parts off at the Iwaizumi front yard. They drove off, and Tooru was left alone in the cemetery.

Birds flew overhead, chirping because it's the only thing they knew how to do. Tooru wondered how they could still sing in the realm of the dead.

With a shake of his head, Tooru got in his car and started the engine. With one last look at the storage shed he wasn't sure he'd come back to, he drove out of the cemetery.

On Hajime's yard, Tooru studied the pieces of the smaller telescope and how  
they fit together. They served as a map for Tooru on how to build the bigger one. For extra measure, he propped up his phone and had a tutorial video ready.

He worked on the telescope for at least a few days, making steady progress and somehow still finding time to get some school work done. On some days, he went to practice with his team, not wanting to get rusty.

He unloaded an impossibly large round cardboard concrete form-tube from his car and carries it toward the yard. He started hammering, sleeves rolled up so his arms could breathe. He looked up at Hajime's window and found the boy in question looking at him.

They smiled at each other. Tooru blinked, and Hajime was no more.

_**#** _

The sky was pink, sun bleeding into the early morning sky. A squirrel ran along a telephone line, a moving shape that went against the stillness of the outside. From where Tooru sat, he could see that his car was the only one in the visitor parking lot.

Tooru, in yesterday's clothes, stirred, accidentally moving the hand that was holding Hajime's, making him open his eyes.

Hajime was lying in bed, hooked to monitors, pumps and an IV drip. He looked miserable and weak. Tooru was too tired to cry.

"You okay?" Tooru asked, moving to sit beside him.

Hajime nodded, sleepy, and closed his eyes again. He rested his head on Tooru's shoulder and wept. His already frail body seemed to be on the verge of shattering as he trembled beside Tooru.

Tooru didn't say anything and listened to his quiet sobs, a piece of him melting into nothingness at every painful inhale.

Iwaizumi-san entered, eyes red. He looked disheveled; crumpled clothes and a tattered pair of shoes. He had been in a hurry when they rushed Hajime to the hospital after he collapsed. "Oikawa-kun," he said, "you go on home."

"I'm not tired," Tooru said.

"I need to be with my son."

Tooru nodded. "Okay." He pressed his lips on Hajime's forehead. "I'll get going, Iwa-chan. I'll wait for you back home, okay?" And off he went.

Hajime's father took Tooru's place on the chair, sitting as he closed his eyes a moment. When he opened them, Hajime was looking at him.

"Hajime, God is not punishing you. No God I know wants anyone to be sick or feel pain or suffer," he said.

"When Mom died you told me God wanted her more, loved her more—"

"I was wrong. Nobody could have wanted or loved your mother more than we did. Not even God," his father said firmly. "And not even God can love you as much as I do. God loaned you to me, entrusted you to my care. I'm failing you."

Hajime looked away.

"Hajime. I make you the same promise that God does," he said seriously. "I will always be with you."

Hajime sat up and hugged him. He closed his eyes, tears welling, never wanting to let him go. His father.

**_#_ **

There was a marquee on the front lawn of their school that said _**WELCOME HALEY'S**_  
 _ **COMET**_. Tooru freezed at the sight as he parked his car, but then sighed and went out, heading for the principal's office where he picked up a pile of books and assignments.

He looked through them and realized somethinf was missing. "Washijo-sensei, where's Hajime's book?"

"That's everything sensei gave me," he said sharply.

"The next book on that list! It was there!" Tooru insisted. "The Old Man and… and…"

"The Sea," Washijo-sensei finished for him.

"Yeah, I need it today!"

The principal must have seen the anguished look on Tooru's face from his inner office because he butted in and told Tooru he'd drive a copy over to Hajime.

Tooru went back to the hospital, to Hajime, thinking about Haley's comet and the things Hajime would never be able to see again.

Hajime looked smaller today. His eyes had blue circles beneath. His lips were pale and dry and cracked. His cheeks were sunken, and his limbs were weak.

Tooru was sitting on a chair beside him, textbook lap as he propped up his leg. Twirling his pen with his fingers, he answered the math problems as best as he could. His left arm was resting on the bed, carrying the weight of his head.

The door opened, and in came Tooru's ex-girlfriend. She looked shy and sheepish, not sute if she was welcome there.

"Hello," Tooru said, closing his textbook.

"He asleep?" she asked, nodding towards Hajime.

"I'll tell him you were here."

There was an awkward pause while she rummaged her bag. Tooru waited patiently. She retrieved a brown album and handed it to Tooru. "Give him this, okay? Those are pictures from the play. You two looked really good."

"I'm sorry about how we—"

"No," she said with a warm smile. "You're with who you should be. It's like he chose you."

"And I have no idea why." Tooru laughed.

"I do," she said.

"You're not bothered?" Toory asked, curious. "By… this? Me and him?"

"Love will never bother me," she said. "I'm sorry too, for the things I've said and done. I was a shitty person and it's even shittier how it had to take something like this to open my eyes. Send Iwaizumi-kun my apologies when he wakes up. He doesn't have to forgive me; just tell him I said it."

She left without another word, leaving silence in her wake. The only other sounds except for Hajime's shaky breathing was Tooru's own and the monitors that were hooked to Hajime.

The door opened again after some time that Tooru didn't keep track of, but this time, Mattsun and Makki were on the other side. They came in when Tooru waved them over, putting the container of fruits they brought on top of one of the tables.

"We were hoping he'd be awake," Mattsun said.

"I'll tell him you came by," Tooru said.

"We wanted to personally apologize to him, but I'm guessing that won't happen," Makki joked. Tooru cracked a smile.

"Hey, man," Makki said. "We never… we never really talked about what happened. At the finals. Before that. Sorry we were really shitty friends. If you're still the Oikawa I knew, you'd blame yourself for not beating Shiratorizawa."

"Yeah." Tooru wanted to laugh. That seemed so long ago.

"Do you still beat yourself up over it?"

Tooru blew air through his nose. "Sometimes," he admitted. "When I think of my regrets and start to wonder where the hell things started to go wrong in my life."

"You know we don't blame you, right?" Mattsun said. "None of us do."

"Well, I do," Tooru said. "At least, I used to. This guys helped me let go of some of that bitterness." He jerked his thumb toward Hajime's sleeping form.

"He's helped you a lot, huh?" Makki said. "You said before, when we were at his locker, that he'd given you a lot of things."

"Yeah," Tooru said. "Love and hope. He made me feel loved and helped me start to love myself again. And he gave me faith, something I used to never have — in myself and in everything else."

"Iwaizumi… he's good for you, Oikawa," Mattsun said.

"Well, he is something else, isn't he?"

_**#** _

The sky was grayer, darker. Entirely different from the pink of the dawn. It made Tooru's heart sink, how easy it was for the sky to change from light to dark.

He was standing by the window when Hajime woke, arms crossed and deep in thought.

"Hi," Hajime said, and Tooru went to his side.

"Hey," Tooru breathed and kisses him. Hajime's lips were dry and tasted like fruit and medication. Tooru wanted to hold him close and never let go.

"I have something for you," Hajime said. He reached under his pillow and pulled out a worn book. He offered it to Landon. "Don't worry," he said with the smile, "it's not a Bible. My mother made it for me before I was born. It's got quotes from famous people from famous people. Her favorite lines from books. Her thoughts."

Tooru opened a random page. "' _What is a friend?"_ he read. " _A single soul dwelling in two bodies.'_ Aristotle."

"Lower," Hajime said. "The same page."

"' _Find out who you are and do it on purpose_.' Dolly Parton." A bookmark fell out. He studied that page a moment. It was a passage from Corinthians. "' _Love is always patient and kind. It is never boastful or conceited—'"_

"That was read at my parents' wedding," Hajime said, closing his eyes.

Tooru took his hand. "How are you doing?"

"Better," Hajime said, lacing their fingers together. "I was really angry."

"I know."

"It's gone now," he said, opening his eyes. He looked at their entertwined hands. "Maybe I believe God has a bigger dream for me than I had for myself. Maybe that dream is the journey, the big adventure that never ends…"

Tooru squeezed Hajime's hand.

"Maybe I believe God sent you to me because I'm ill," he said. "So that you can help me pass on, help me live on my way to death."

Tooru touched his face tenderly. If only there was a way to share someone's burden, to take someone's pain, he would gladly do it. He would do it a million times for Hajime. He tried not to cry when Hajime's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I want to go home," he said.

"I'll talk to your father," he said quickly so Hajime couldn't catch the way his voice broke.

"It's not that simple," Hajime said, looking away. "It costs money to do this at home. I can't do that to my father. I can't do that when I—" He choked down a sob, knocking at his chest with a curled fist.

Tooru had to pry his hands away.

"I can't. I can't. Why did I have to be sick? Why did I have to be like this? So fucking selfish. So fucking sick."

Tooru said nothing and only wrapped his arms around Hajime, rocking his body back and forth as he sobbed. Hajime clutched Tooru's arm, but his grip was weak, and Tooru felt his heart break for the millionth time that night.

_**#** _

Even though he'd parked his car in the driveway and killed the engine, he made no move to get out. He just sat there, exhausted, despondent. He felta throbbing in his right knee, but the pain in his chest seemed more prominent.

There was a fire in Tooru's body. Not the warm, friendly kind of fire you'd find at the hearth, but the pillaging kind that made you burn everything you touched. The kind of fire brought destruction with it no matter which way you turned, the fire that killed men and earth alike. The flames licked every fibre of Tooru's flesh, eating away at his insides, feeding at his internal turmoils so they'd grow and prosper.

His lungs rattled at the heat, and his internal organs felt like they were melting. He wanted to pull out his eyes from their sockets just to check if they were on fire.

He ran a hand through his hair. It had been a while since he last spent at leadt twenty minutes trying to keep it in perfect condition. Now he just washed his hair and that was it. He supposed it didn't matter; he only went out to see his Iwa-chan anyway, and his Iwa-chan didn't care what he looked.

With a sigh, he got out of his car and walked towards his house, glancing at the Iwaizumis' before he entered through the front door. He tossed his keys to the side, not caring where it landed, and jogged up the stairs after waving to his mom who was in the kitchen, talking to someone on her phone.

Tooru caught a few words, but didn't care enough to bother listening in or wondering who it was his mother was asking money from and why.

He locked the door of his room behind him and fell face first onto his bed. Sleep didn't come easily; it creeped along the edges of his eyes but scurried away the moment he reached out for it.

He turned so he was staring at his ceiling, back against his soft mattress. When he was younger, he'd painted stars on his ceiling because it had been his childhood dream to become an astronaut and talk to aliens. He'd paint two or three stars everyday until there was no more space to paint on. He raised his hand, reaching out to the tiny Milky Way he had in the small of his bedroom.

He got up and reached for the volleyball under his bed. He threw it up and received it with his arms. He followed the ball with his eyes, letting it hit his skin over and over until it became red. He spun the ball with his finger, then threw it up again.

**_#_ **

Hajime's breathing was even shallower today. Beside him, Tooru was reading him The Sheltering Sky. He caught movement in the corner of his eye and paused, looking up. Hajime's student was standing in the doorway. Hajime sees her too.

He smiled weakly. "Hey."

"Hi," she said shyly. She went in when Tooru gestured for her to sit beside him. He offered her the book, and she took it to keep going from where Tooru left off stumbling over her words.

Hajime reached over to ruffle her hair, grinning. "Who's been working with you?"

She looked shyly at Tooru, then ducked her head back to the book, continuing to read. Her voice was soft, and Tooru had to listen more closely to hear her, but she read with heart, and that was enough.

Hajime shook is r head at Tooru, amazed at how much Tooru was doing for him. He couldn't believe Tooru used to think he wasn't worthy of Hajime.

He grabbed Tooru's hand, and they shared a smile.

It was night when Tooru returned home. He quietly opened the back door to the kitchen, creeping in. He yawned, covering his mouth and rubbing his hair. Cracking his knuckles, he went to get a glass of water but stipped when he saw his mom and dad sitting at the table.

"Sit with us a minute," she said.

Tooru entered but didn't sit. He glanced curiously at his father, who was staring at him as he drummed his fingers on the table. "What are you doing here?" he said to his father.

"He wants to talk to you," she said.

Tooru looked at her, surprised. He raised an eyebrow and couldn't contain his smirk. "So now's okay?" he said incredulously.

She sighed. "Tooru, you have two parents," she said, rubbing the upper part of her T-zone. She looked exhausted. Tooru realized he never asked about her mental and physical well-being, so fixated on Hajime's. "We're both here for you even if we're not here for each other anymore."

Tooru stared, eyes flitting from his mother, to his father, then back to his mother again, listening.

His father reached for his hands, and he let him. "I want to do this," he said, "please." He held out a check. "For Iwaizumi, so he can go home."

"I already called the reverend about this," his mom said. "Just bring the money to him."

"Thank you," Tooru said, voice full of emotion. Gratefulness was a blooming seed in his chest, transforming his heart from a hollow graveyard into a tropical rainforest.

"I'm just glad to be of help," his dad said. "And Tooru, if you ever need anything, I'll be here."

Tooru smiled. "I know."

**_#_ **

Hajime grew smaller everyday. Tooru's arms were now bigger than his, and his clothes that used to be tight on him were now a lot more loose. He was hooked to an IV, bottles of pills on the bedside table.

Tooru sat on the chair beside him, buring his head in his arms on the bed as he slept. A nurse sat in the corner, reading.

He touched Tooru's hair with his thin fingers. Tooru looked beautiful when he slept. The tired circles under his eyes seemed to disappear. He looked younger, fuller. He looked at peace, without a care in the world. All signs of exhaustion he had before were gone. His skin glowed in Hajime's eyes.

"Oh."

Makki and Mattsun stood in the doorway, not sure what to do. Hajime smiled at them, beckoning them in. "Don't wake Tooru."

They tiptoed in, standing on either side of his bed, awkward.

"Do I look scary?" Hajime asked.

"Not too shabby," Mattsun said jokingly. "Although some areas could use some improvement."

"You alright?" Makki asked him.

"Things could be better." He smiled, leaning back on the headboard behind him. He imagined that they were back at the cemetery, backs against the tombstone like they always did, telescope beside them, and Tooru snuggling closer to him for warmth. He imagined the moon looking down at them, along with its stars, and the evening wind that always blew unsung promises and melancholic whispers.

"We thought you'd be asleep," Makki said. "We went here the other day."

"I know," Hajime said. "Tooru told me."

Mattsun put his hands in his pockets. "We're sorry for all the shit we did to you," he said sheepishly, ashamed, but still looking Hajime in the eye.

Hajime raised an eyebrow. "For what? For the bullying? Making me the butt of everyone's jokes? Isolating me from others? Making my high school life a living hell?"

They didn't reply.

Hajime shook his head, a small smile on his face. "I wouldn't be a child of God if I didn't forgive," he said. "Besides, it would be bad for my health to hold grudges."

"How can you still have faith? When you're in this state?" Makki asked. It was a genuine question, and Hajime knew he didn't mean any harm.

"I ask myself that too," he said. "My mom told me that if you feel love, you feel God. And right now." He reached for the top of Tooru's head. "I feel love."

"What's it like?" Mattsun asked. "To be in love?"

Hajime paused, thinking. "Like the Fermi paradox," he said. "An endless circle of waiting and wondering. It's mysterious, but it feels you with hope and curiosity, so you don't question it too much."

"Does it hurt?" Mattsun said.

"Love?"

Mattsun shook his head. "Dying."

"Scary," Hajime admitted, "and empty. I get angry sometimes. And other times I feel anxious and numb and everything at once. Everything, then nothing. Sometimes both at the same time."

They were silent after that, until Makki handed him an envelope. "It's for the book drive. Oikawa told us about it and we told everyone at school."

Hajime's teary smile was enough for them to feel his endless gratitude.

They left after a while. The nurse hadn't looked up from her book, giving them the privacy they needed while still keeping an eye on Hajime. He put the envelop on the table and shifted so he was face to face with Tooru.

He wanted to memorize every millimeter of Tooru's face so when the time comes for him to go, he can close his eyes and conjure an image of Tooru, and it would be the last thing he'll ever see.

Tooru stirred, waking up. He yawned and stretched his arms and legs. He attempted to pat down his disheveled hair and rubbed his face. "Hello," he told Hajime.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Hajime said.

"No, it's fine," Tooru said. His eyes landed on the brown envelope on the table. "What's this? This wasn't here a while ago. Did someone come?"

"Yeah," Hajime said. "Mattsun and Makki. That's for the book drive."

"Wow," Tooru said, checking the contents. "That's a lot. Did they tell everyone at school?"

Hajime nodded. He had a faraway look in his eyes, unfocused and unseeing. "It's almost April," he said, almost wistfully, "when the dogwoods and wisteria bloom."

_**#** _

Tooru sat at his desk, sketching the larger telescope, making a few computations. A library book on Haley's Comet was open beside his right hand, a stack of similar books by his elbow.

He glanced out the window, looking at the. dark Iwaizumi house. Hajime had come back home, accompanied by a nurse. They'd set up the monitors, IV drip and everything else he needed in his bedroom.

The mechanical pencil Tooru was using to sketch suddenly snapped, and the lead broke in half. He hisbit his lip and clicked the top of his pen, but no more came out. He dug his bapencil case for spare lead refills but had none.

"Goddammit," he cursed, frustrated.

"Anything I can do to help?" His mom was at the door, looking at him in concern.

He shrugged, feeling tears prickle at his eyes. "Everything's being done but it's not enough. I have to find something more."

"Son," she said gently. She walked over to where Landon was and hugged him from behind, rubbing circles on his arm. "Tooru, there's nothing more to do."

"I don't mean about Iwa-chan being sick," he said. "I mean about Iwa-chan and me. I feel like I'm not doing enough."

"Be with him when he wants," she said. "Understand him, be patient. Make sure he never feels alone."

Tooru pondered at the second meaning behind her words. "I'm nit going anywhere," he said. "Not yet, anyway."

"When you're ready," she said softly, "I want you to feel free to go. I want you to do things becaise you want to, not because you have to. With no restrictions."

"I won't stop playing volleyball," he said. "But that's not the only thing I'll be doing either."

"And I'll be here the whole time." She pressed her lips on Tooru's head and left.

Tooru put away his sketches and pencils. He moved to his bed, but the stars felt blinding so he turned to face the far wall on his left. His gaze dropped to the floor, and he spotted the worn book Hajime gave him that he tucked away under his desk.

He crawled over to grab it. He was tall enough to reach with the lower half of his body still under the covers. He opened it, and a photo fell out. It was the one his ex girlfriend took of Hajime.

He was beautiful, smiling at the audience. He wore his dress shirt the way he always did: the first two buttons left open.

Tooru smiled and took his phone to snap a picture of it, before finding a page to tuck it into and moving on. He tugged at a dog ear, opening it with his steady fingers.

For Tooru, the top part said. Under it was an underlined text from Psalm.

 _"'I cry to you my Lord, my rock!'"_ he read _. "Do not be deaf to me, for if you are silent, I shall go down to the pit like the rest. Hear my voice raised in petition as I cry to you for help, as I raise my hands, my Lord, toward your holy of holies.'"_

Tooru knew Hajime chose this for him, because Hajime knew Tooru best, even when he himself didn't. And Hajime knew that there will come day where Tooru would want to pray, but he doesn't know how.

After one more glance at the dead Iwaizumi house, Tooru tore down the steps, past his mother to the front door. He was out the door before she even turns around. He ran to the Iwaizumi front yard and started hauling the materials he was going to need.

At midnight, he saw Iwaizumi-san peek at him through their window. He regarded him for a second, before tunring back to his task. Tooru had arranged dozen flashlights in a big circle, as the street lamos weren't nearly enough for him to see the details. Tooru was in the middle, working feverishly on the new telescope.

Moments later, the porch light comes on, and Iwaizumi-san stepoed out onto the front porch, making Tooru look up.

He flushed. There was a desperate, almodt manic look in his eyes. "I have to finish it tonight."

Without another word, Iwaizumi-san turned around and went back inside, leaving the porch light on. After a while, he came out, dressed carrying two mugs of coffee and a stool. He walked over and set down the mugs on top of the stool.

Tooru immediately understood thay he wanted to help. "I've almost finished the rocker. Did he order mirrors?"

"In there." Iwaizumi-san pointed to the garage. "You have materials for the side bearings?"

"I'm using an old phonographic turntable," Tooru replied as they walked toward the small garage.

"For the focuser?"

"A chrome-plated brass pipe from a drain line."

Iwaizumi-san nodded, impressed. He yanked the garage door open.

"You know about this stuff?" Tooru called.

"I helped Hajime with the first one."

"I thought he did it alone," Tooru said, surprised.

"He did. But hardly anyone does anything truly alone." He exited the garage, carrying out a large cardboard postal package.

Tooru took it as the Reverend lowered the garage door. "I need to do this alone," he said seriously.

Iwaizumi-san searched Tooru's face for a long moment, understanding, then turned and heads for the door.

Tooru worked on the telescope until sunrise, until Iwaizumi-san left for his office, until he finally, _finally_ , finished the telescope.

He sprawled on the yard for a moment, pausing to catch his breath. He then stood up and put away the finished product and all the stuff he had used. On his way back to his house, he opened his phone and called Iwaizumi-san.

"You finished?" Iwaizumi-san said. He sounded like he'd been crying.

"Yeah, a few minutes ago," Tooru said, opening the door and nodding to his mother who was cooking breakfast in the kitchen. "How are you holding up?"

Iwaizumi-san took a while before replying. "When I was seventeen, I was sent up for a year for stealing a car. Sometimes I still feel that boy inside me and I don't like him," he said. "But I like you." 

"Was that why you were wary of me when Iwa-chan and I became friends?" Tooru teased to lighten the mood. "I knew it wasn't my fault; I'm too perfect for that."

"Still as conceited as ever, I see," Iwaizumi-san remarked, but Tooru could here the smile in his voice.

"You really are Iwa-chan's dad," Tooru said with a playful pout. "I prefer the term confident, thank you very much! Anyway, Iwaizumi-san, I have a favor..."

When Iwaizumi-san hung up, Tooru took a bath, sighing contentedly as the warm water relaxed his tense muscles. After bathing, he dressed, ate, and spent the rest of the day sleeping.

He woke at night and checked the time with his phone. He went downstairs to eat dinner with his mother, then crossed over their yard to get to Hajime's house. He stood by Hajime's bed, talking to the nurse until the other guy woke up.

Hajime opened his eyes, but can barely keep them open, groggy from pain medication.

"Good evening." Tooru pressed his lips on Hajime's. "We're going out." He started helping the nurse disconnect the IV.

"Can I go out?" Hajime said.

"You'll be fine for a few minutes." _Right?_ Tooru looked at the nurse, uncertain. He smiled when she nodded.

Since Hajime was way smaller than Tooru now, he was lighter, and Tooru could easily carry him.

He brought Hajime out a large attic window, setting him down. The finished large telescope was set up already, pointing at the sky.

"It's beautiful..." Hajime said, touching the telescope with his fingertips. "Thank you." He looked at the lights of the houses and streets around them. "I don't know what we'll be able to see, though... Help me stand."

Tooru assisted him, then checked his phone for the time. "Wait a sec," he said.

Hajime turned to him, questioning, but then stops, stupefied.

The neighborhood suddenly darkened as the street lamps and lights in every nearby house are switched off. Their neighbors stepped outside, holding up binoculars. There was something magical about they way the people came together to witness a literal once in a lifetime astronomical event.

A chill ran down Hajime's spine, and he hugged Tooru.

"We have five minutes," Tooru said.

Hajime, tears streaming, braced herself against Tooru and peered into the telescope eyepiece. He pulled back, wiped his eyes, then looked again. He swung the telescope into the correct position.

There it was. Haley's Comet, its icy nucleus issuing the jets and streamers of gas, dust, and debris that form the comet's hazy head and long tail.

"The comet of the century..." Hajime murmured. He stepped back so Tooru can see.

Tooru looked quickly, then moved aside so he can keep looking. He was completely engrossed, enamored at the beauty that was before him. He never thought he'd be able to see the comet in his lifetime, as death had seemed nearer.

"You love me?" Tooru asked.

Hajime leaned away from the eyepiece and looked at him, nodding.

"Will you do something for me, then, Iwa-chan?" Tooru said.

"Tooru, I can't even do things myself."

"But if you could, you would?"

"Yes. Of course."

Tooru's throat tightened with nervousness. He felt hopeful and scared and sad and happy — all at once.

"When the dogwoods and wisteria start to bloom," he said slowly, "will you marry me?"

_**#** _

It was a sea of pink, purple, and white blossoms. Dogwoods,  
wisteria, azaleas, and roses were blooming. Spring tasted like magic and family. The church was bursting with everyone who knew Tooru and Hajime — every  
kid in their high school, every teacher, everyone at that joined the tutoring program, Iwaizumi-san's congregation,  
their parents, Tooru's stepfamily, hospital staff and home nurses; everyone.

Tooru stood with Hajime as the wedding march began. The double doors at the back of the church opened, and everyone turned to look at them, gasping out of joy and sadness.

Flanked by a nurse on one side, and Tooru in the other, he wore the black suit that he'd saved for his deathbed (he'd told Tooru; he wanted it to be the only suit he'll ever wear). He wore it like he always did: suit jacket over his dress shirt with the first two buttons opened. It hung loosely, but still was him. He was as dazzling as ever, his once quiet beauty now shining and prominent.

Tooru swelled with pride. He was wearing a smiliar suit but with a grey tie. He teared up, and felt Hajime squeeze his arm.

Hajime smiled. Then, leaning on Tooru, they slowly made their way down the aisle. In the pews, everyone's eyes followed them, wet with tears. They stopped halfway for Hajime to rest and catch his breath. A moment later, they continued until they reached the altar.

It was a long difficult walk, but it was okay. They were together.

At the altar, the nurse rolled a wheelchair up. Applause broke out when they finally stood before Hajime's father .

Hajime sat, exhausted. Tooru kneeled to be the same height as Hajime in his chair.

Iwaizumi-san, standing, bent over to kiss his son on the head. Tears threatened to spill out of his eyes, but he forced himself to keep his emotions in check. Then he knelt, too.

Hajime took Tooru's hand in his right hand, his father's hand in his left, linking the three of them together.

The congregation silenced. The Reverend looked up from his Bible, struggling.

"I never thought I'd see the day my son would get married," he said, voice shaking. "And it fills me with so much joy to see you with the man you love. I may not have been accepting at the start, but know that I will always stand by you, my son. May God's blessings be with you both." He reached out, offering a hand to Tooru, completing the  
circle.

"When I first moved into the house next door, I thought you were odd," Tooru said. "I didn't want to talk to you unless my mom told me to. I refused to catch those damn bugs with you every afternoon. You were the weird kid I didn't want to associate myself with—" Tooru's voice broke. He was crying now, hot tears streaming down his face. "When you came at my face that rainy night, mouthing off about how I was slacking off at drama practice, I thought you were silly, and much too passionate. But then I realized that I was a lot like you in many ways. Hot-headed and determined. Passionate and strong. I had my idiosyncrasies, you had yours. You believed in, though I don't know why, and I will always believe in you." He paused, wiping off his tears. "I once promised you that I wouldn't fall in love with you. What a stupid promise, when our souls were linked the moment I moved in next door." He laughed. "Iwa-chan... my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I love you now and I will love you until the world stops turning. But even then, even when the sun dies and there is only nothingness, I think I will still love you."

"We are all just building blocks of worlds that are yet to form," Hajime said. "Some of us get to become actual planets, but the other half of us have no gravity strong enough to pull pieces of us intact. I thought I was the latter, just scattered rocks floating in space with no purpose, drifting apart until I was no more. But you became my gravity, Tooru. You made me whole, as whole as I can get. You made me feel loved, made me feel God. I love with all I have left, and I will love you even when I am long gone," Hajime said. "They say when a person dies they become one with the stars. When the time comes, look up at the stars for me, okay, Shittykawa? I'll be there."

There was not one person in the church that wasn't crying. It was truly heartbreaking to see a love burn so bright before their eyes, knowing that the flame would perish and die with a straight, green line and a beeping monitor.

"Tooru," the Reverend said, "repeat after me. Do you take my son, Iwaizumi Hajime, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

"And do you, Hajime, take Oikawa Tooru as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do."

Iwaizumi-san smiled, squeezing their hands before letting go. "'Love is always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes...'"

_**#** _

Tooru comes back to Tokyo one winter. He stands in the living room of the Iwaizumi house, waiting with his hands in his pockets.

After almost twenty years since his last visit, the house is still the same. Dark and prim with stiff, ancient-looking furniture, Victorian portraits of people Tooru didn't know with dusty frames and eyes that seemed to follow your every move, antique vases and religious paraphernalia. Tooru supposes Iwaizumi-san is simply too old for interior decorating.

He looks at a framed photo of Hajime in The Walking Thunder, smiling fondly.

A nurse comes in, helping an old man as he shuffles in on his wheelchair. Iwaizumi-san. He is stooped, thin, and balding, skin parchment thin.

"You've been well?" he says.

"Of course, Iwaizumi-san. You can't expect any less from me," Tooru says cheerfully with the same airy tone he used so many years ago. "You?"

Iwaizumi-san cracks a smile. "Getting by. Still the same, then? Conceited."

"You flatter me," Tooru says.

"You're a doctor now?"

"Yes," Tooru says. "And I also went pro. We have a game tonight." He smiles, then picks at his finger. "I'm here to retuen something." He twists the ring on his finger and removes it. "This belongs to you, I believe."

He gives his old wedding ring to the Reverend, pressing his top and bottom lip together as he searches for something meaningful to say. "He taught me everything," he says. "He saved my life. I will always love him."

The Reverend turns away, overcome with sadness, as if just now realizing why Tooru has come. "You're marrying again," he says, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes," Tooru confirms. "He's my teammate. I'm going to be a Kuroo."

"Hajime wanted that," Iwaizumi-san says weakly. "He told me."

Tooru smiles sadly, grateful to know that. He turns to leave but stops. "I'm sorry he never got his miracle."

"He did. It was you."

Hajime once told Tooru that when you're feeling love, you're also feeling God. He had given Tooru faith, made him a believer. In love. In life. In the journey that never ends. And in the mystery of all things you can't see but feel everywhere around you.

He is always there... in the stars that used to be poison, in the wind, in the stories that have long since gone — Iwaizumi Hajime, the boy who used to wear ugly sweaters and faked his waltz, the boy who built telescopes and drowned himself in books, believer of God, believer of Oikawa Tooru.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! please don't forget to leave a comment. i would love to hear your thoughts :)) this is my first finished fic so be nice hehe you can reach me at @msbykuroo on twitter!!


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